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Bk:^X FMAW'KI.IE'.l.A Ji. 



THE 



ORKS 



OF THE LATE 

DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 

CONSISTING OP HIS 



WRJTTEJV BY HIMSELF. 

TOGETHER WITH 

HUMOUROUS, MORAI., AND LITERARY 

ESSAYS, 
CHIEFLY IJV THE MAXJSTER OF THE 

SPECTATOR. 

AMOaia WHICH ABE SEVERAL NOT IN ANT AMEllICAN EDITION. 

PHILJIDELPHM: 

" PUBLISHED BY SOLOMON WIATE, 



1815. 

A. GRIGGS 6? K. DICKINSON, — PHINTEHS, WHITEHALL. 






16908 




PREFACE 



THE volume that is here presented to the 
Public, consists of two parts ; the Life of Dr. 
Franklin; and a collection of Miscellaneous 
Essays, the work of that Author. 

It is already known to many, that Dr. Frank- 
lin amused himself, towards the close of his 
life, with writing memoirs of his own history. 
These memoirs were brought down to the year 
1757. Together with some other manuscripts 
they were left behind him at his death, and 
were considered as a part of his posthumous 
property. It is a little extraordinary that, un- 
der these circumstances, interesting as they are, 
from the celebrity of the character of which 
they treat, and from the critical situation of the 
present times, they should so long have been 
with-held from the Public. A translation of 
them appeared in France near two years ago, 
coming down to the year 1731. There can be 
no sufficient reason, that what has been submit- 
ted to the perusal of Europe, should not be 
made accessible to those to whom Dr. Frank- 
lin's language is native. The first part of the 
history of his life is translated from that pub= 
lication. 

A 2 



O PREFACE 

The style of these memoirs is uncommonly 
pleasing. The story is told with the most un- 
reserved sincerity, and without any false co- 
louring or ornament. We see, in every page, 
that the author examined his subjects with the 
eye of a master, and related no incidents, the 
springs and origin of which he did not perfectly 
understand. It is this that gives such exquisite 
and uncommon perspicuity to the detail and de- 
light in the review. The translator has endea- 
voured, as he went along, to conceive the pro- 
bable manner in which Dr. Franklin expressed 
his ideas in his English manuscript, and he 
hopes to be forgiven if this enquiry shall occa- 
sionally have subjected him to the charge of a 
style in any respect bald or low ; to imitate the 
admirable simplicity of the author, is no easy 
task. 

The Essays, which are now for the first time, 
brought together from various resources, will be 
found to be more miscellaneous than any of Dr. 
Franklin's that have formerly been collected, 
and will therefore be more generally amusing. 
Dr. Franklin tells us, in his Life, that he was 
an assiduous imitator of Addison; and from 
some of these papers it will be admitted he 
was not an unhappy one. The public will be 
amused with following a great philosopher in 
his relaxation, and observe in what respects 
philosophy tends to elucidate and improve the 
most common subject. The editor has purpose- 
ly avoided such papers, as by their scientifical 



PREFACE. 7 

nature, were less^apted for general perusal. 
These he may probably hereafter publish in a 
volume by themselves. 

He subjoins a letter from the late celebrated 
and amiable Dr. Price, to a gentleman in Phi- 
ladelphia, upon the subject of Dr. Franklin's 
memoirs of his own life. 

Hackney y June 19, 1790. 

DEAR SIR, 

" I am hardly able to tell you how kindly I 
take the letters with which you favour me. Your 
last containing an account of the death of our 
excellent friend, Dr. Franklin, and the circum- 
stances attending it, deserves my particular gra- 
titude. The account which he has left of his 
life will show, in a striking example, how a man 
by talents, industry, and integrity, may rise from 
obscurity to the first eminence and consequence 
in the world ; but it brings his history no lower 
than the year 1757, and I understand that since 
he sent over the copy, which I have read, he 
has been able to make no additions to it. It is 
with a melancholy regret I think of his death ; 
but to death we are all bound by the irreversi- 
ble order of nature ; and in looking forward to 
it, there is comfort in being able to reflect — that 
we have not lived in vain, and that all the use- 
ful and virtuous shall meet in a better country 
beyond the grave. 



8 PREFACE. 

" Dr. Franklin, in the last letter I received 
from him, after mentioning his age and infirmi- 
ties, observes, that it has been kindly ordered 
by the Author of nature, that, as we draw near- 
er the conclusion of life, we are furnished with 
more helps to wean us from it, among which, 
one of the strongest is the loss of dear friends. I 
was delighted with the account you gave in your 
letter of the honours shewn to his memory at Phi- 
ladelphia, and by Congress; and yesterday I 
received a high additional pleasure, by being 
informed that the National Assembly of France 
had determined to go in mourning for him. — 
What a glorious scene is opened there ! The 
annals of the world furnish no parallel to it. 
One of the honours of our departed friend is, 
that he has contributed much to it. 

I am, with great respect. 

Your obliged and very humble servant, 
RICHARD PRICE." 



LIFE 

OF 

DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 

&c. 



I 



MY DE?AR SON, 



HAVE amused myself with collecting some little 
anecdotes of my family. You may remember the en- 
quiries I made, when you were with me in England, 
among such of my relations as were then living ; and 
the journey I undertook for that purpose. To be ac- 
quainted with the particulars of my parentage and life, 
many of which are unknown to you, I flatter myself, 
will afford the same pleasure to you as to me. I shall 
relate them upon paper : it will be an agreeable em- 
ployment of a week's uninterrupted leisure, which I 
promise myself during my present retirement in the 
country. There are also other motives which induce 
me to the undertaking. From the bosom of poverty 
and obscurity, in which I drew my first breath and 
spent my earliest years, I have raised myself to a state 
of opulence and to some degree of celebrity in the 
world. A constant good fortune has attended me 
through every period of life to my present advanced 
age ; and my descendants may be desirous of learning 



10 THE LIFE OF 

what were the means of which I made use, and which, 
thanks to the assisting hand of Providence, have proved 
so eminently successful. They may also, should they 
ever be placed in a similar situation, derive some advan- 
tage from my narrative. 

When I reflect, as I frequently do, upon the felici- 
ty I have enjoyed, I sometimes say to myself, that, 
were the offer made me, I would engage to run again, 
from beginning to end, the same career of life. All 
I would ask would be the privilege of an author, to 
correct in a second edition, certain errors of the first. 
I could wish, likewise, if it were in my power, to 
change some trivial incidents and events for others more 
favourable. Were this however denied me, still would 
I not decline the offer. But since a repetition of life 
cannot take place, there is nothing which, in my opi- 
nion, so nearly resembles it, as to call to mind ail its 
circumstances, and, to render their remembrance more 
durable, commit them to writing. By thus employing 
myself, I shall yield to the inclination, so natural to 
old men, to talk of themselves and their exploits, and 
may freely follow my bent, without being tiresome to 
those who, from respect to my age, might think them- 
selves obliged to listen to me ; as they will be at liber- 
ty to read me or not as they please. In fine — and I 
may well avow it, since nobody would believe me were 
I to deny it— -I shall perhaps, by this employment, 
gratify my vanity. Scarcely indeed have I ever heard 
or read the introductory phrase, " / may say without 
-vanityy^ but some striking and characteristic instance 
of vanity has immediately followed. The generality 
of men hate vanity in others, however strongly they 
may be tinctured with it themselves ; for myself, I pay 
obeisance to it wherever I meet with it, persuaded that 
it is advantageous, as well to the individual whom 
it governs, as to those who are within the sphere of its 
influence. Of Consequence, it would in many cases, 
not be wholly absurd, that a man should count his va- 
nity among the other sweets of life, and give thanks 
to providence for the blessing. 



\ 



2>R. FRANKLIN. U 

And here let me with all humility acknowledge, that 
to divine Providence I am indebted for the felicity I 
have hitherto enjoyed. It is that power alone which 
has furnished me with the means I have employed, and 
that has crowned them with success. My faith in this 
respect leads me to hope, though I cannot count upon 
it, that the Divine goodness will still be exercised to- 
wards me either by prolonging the duration of my 
happiness to the close of life, or by giving me forti- 
tude to support any melancholy reverse, which may 
happen to me, as to so many others. My future for- 
tune is unknown but to him in whose hand is our des- 
tiny, and who can make our very afflictions subservient 
to our benefit. 

' One of my uncles, desirous like myself, of collecting 
anecdotes of our family, gave me some notes, from 
which I have derived many particulars respecting our 
ancestors. From these I learn, that they had lived in 
the same village (Eaton in Northamptonshire) upon a 
freehold of about thirty acres, for the space at least of 
three hundred years How long they had resided there 
prior to that period, my uncle had been unable to dis- 
cover ; probably ever since the institution of surnamesi 
when they took the appellation of Franklin, which had 
formerly been the name of a particular order of indi* 
viduals.* 

• As a proof that Franklin was anciently the common name of 
an order of rank in England, see judge Fortescue, De laudibus le- 
gum Anglios, written about the year 1412, in which is the following 
passage to show that good juries might easily be formed in any 
part of England : 

•* Regio etiam ilia, ita rcspersa refertaque est possessoribus 
terrarum et agrorum, quod in ea, villulatam parva reperiri on po- 
terit, In qua non est miles, armiger, vel pater familias qualis ibidem 
Franklin vulgaritur nuncupatur,magnis ditatus possessonihus, nee- 
non libere, tenentes at alii valecti plurimi, suis patrimoniis sufficien- 
tes, ad faciendum juratam, in forma praenotata." 

*• Moreover, the same counti*y is so filled and replenished with 
** landed menne, that therein so small athorpe cannot be found 



13 THE LIFE OF 

This petty estate would not have sufficed for their 
subsistence, had they not added the trade of blacksmith, 
which was perpetuated in the family down to my uncle's 
time, the eldest son having been uniformly brought up 
to this employment : a custom which both he and my 
father observed with respect to their eldest sons. 

In the researches I made at Eaton, I found no ac- 
count of their births, marriages and deaths, earlier 
than the year 1555 ; the parish register not extend- 
ing farther back than that period. This register in- 
formed me, that I was the youngest son of the youngest 
branch of the family, counting five generations. My 
grandfather, Thomas, who was born in 1598, living 
at Eaton till he was too old to continue his trade, when 
he retired to Banbury in Oxfordshire, where his son 
John, who was a dyer resided, and with whom my 
father was apprenticed. He died, and was buried 
there : we saw his monument in 1758. His eldest son 
lived in the family house at Eaton, which he bequeath- 
ed, with the land belonging to it, to his only daugh- 

** wherein dwelleth not a knight, an esquire, or such a householder 
" as is thei-e commonly called a Franklin, enriched with great pos- 
** sessions ; and also other freeholders and many yeomen, able for 
" their livelihoods to make a jury in form aforementioned." 

Old TRANSiATioir. 

Chaucer too calls his country gentleman a Franklin, and after 
describing his good housekeeping, thus characterises him : 

This worthy Franklin bore a purse of silk, 
Fix'd to his girdle, white as morning milk. 
Knight to the shire, first justice to th* assize. 
To help the poor, the doubtful to advise. 
In all employments, generous, just he proved, 
Benown'd for courtesy, by all belov'd. 



DR. FRANKLlf^. 13 

ter ; who, in concert with her husband, Mr. Fisher of 
Wellinborough, afterwards sold it to Mr. Ested, the pre- 
sent proprietor. 

My grandfather had four surviving sons, Thomas, 
John, Benjamin, and Josias. I shall give you such 
particulars of them as my memory will furnish, not 
having my papers here, in which you will find a more 
minute account, if they are not lost during my ab- 
sence. 

Thomas, had learned the trade of a blacksmith under 
his father; but possessing a good natural understanding, 
he improved it by study, at the solicitation of a gentle- 
man by the name of Palmer, who was at that time 
the principal inhabitant of the village, and who en~ 
couraged in like manner all my uncles to improve their 
minds. Thomas thus rendered himself competent to 
the functions of a country attorney; soon became an 
essential personage in the affairs of the village; and 
was one of the chief movers of every public enlerprizc, 
as weii relative to the country^ as the town of North- 
ampton. A variety of remarkable incidents were told 
us of him at Eaton. After enjoying the esteem and 
patronage of lord Halifax, he died January 6, 1702, 
precisely four years before I was born. The recital 
that was made us of his life and character, by some 
aged persons of the village, struck you, I remember, 
as extraordinary, from its analogy to what you knew 
of myself. " Had he died," said you, " just four 
years later, one might have supposed a transmigration 
of souls.'* 

John, to the best of my belief, was brought up to the 
trade of a wool-dyer. 

Benjamin served his apprenticeship in London to a 
silk-dyer. He was an industrious man : 1 remember 
him well ; for, while I was a child, he joined my fa- 
ther at Boston, and lived for some years in the house 
with us. A particular affection had always subsisted 
between my father and him ; and I was his godson. 

B 



14 THE LITE OF 

He arrived to a great age. He left behind him two 
quarto volumes of poems in manuscript, consisting of 
little fugitive pieces addressed to the friends. He had 
invented a short-hand, which he taught me, but having 
never made use of it, I have now forgotten it. He 
was a man of piety, and a constant attendant on the 
best preachers, whose sermons he took a pleasure in 
writing down according to the expeditory method he 
had devised. Many volumes were thus collected by 
him. He was also extremely fond of politics, too 
much so perhaps for his situation. I lately found in 
London a collection which he had made of all the prin- 
cipal pamphlets relative to public affairs, from the year 
1641 to 1717. Many volumes are wanting, as ap- 
pears by the series of numbers ; but there still remain 
eight in folio, and twenty four in quarto and octavo. 
The collection had fallen into the hands of a second- 
hand booksellor, who, knowing me by having sold me 
some books, brought it to me. My uncle it seems, 
had left it behind him on his departure for America, 
about fifty years ago. I found various notes of his 
writing in the margin. His grandson, Samuel is now 
living at Boston. 

Our humble family had early embraced the Reforma- 
tion. They remained faitlifully attached during the reign 
of queen Mary, when they were in danger of being mo- 
lested on account of their zeal against popery. They 
had an English Bible, and, to conceal it the more se- 
curely, they conceived the prospect of fastening it, open, 
vv'ith pack-threads across the leaves, on the inside of the 
lid of a close-stool. When my great-grandfather wish 
ed to read to his family, he reversed the lid of the 
close-stool upon his knees, and passed the leaves from 
one side to the other, which were held down on each 
by the pack-thread. One of the children was stationed 
at the door to give notice if he saw the proctor (an 
officer of the spiritual court) make his appearance : 
in that case, the lid was restored to its place, with the 



DR. FRANKLIN. I5 

Bible concealed imder it as before. I had this anecdote 
from my uncle Benjamin. 

The whole family preserved its attachments to the 
Church of England till towards the close of the reign of 
Charles II. when certain ministers, who had been ejected 
as non-conformists, having held conventicles in North- 
amptonshire, they were joined by Benjamin and Josias, 
who adhered to them ever after. The rest of the family 
continued in the episcopal Church. 

My father, Josias, married early in life. He went 
with his wife and three children, to New England about 
the year 1682. Conventicles being at that time prohi- 
bited by law, and frequently disturbed, some considera- 
ble persons of his acquaintance determined to go to 
America, where they hoped to enjoy the free exercise 
of their religion, and my father was prevailed on to 
accompany them. 

My father had also by the same wife four children 
born in America, and ten others by a second wife, mak- 
ing in all seventeen. I remember to have seen thir- 
teen seated together at his table, who all arrived to 
years of maturity, and were married. I was the last of 
the sons, and the youngest child, excepting two daugh- 
ters. I was born at Boston in New England. My 
mother the second wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of 
Peter Folger, one of the first colonists of New England, 
of whom Cotton Mather makes honourable mention, in 
his Ecclesiastical History of that province, as " si/iious 
*' and learned Englishman^*' if I rightly recollect his ex- 
pressions. I have been told of his having written a varie- 
ty of little pieces ; but there appears to be only one in 
print, which I met with many years ago. It was published 
in the year 1675, and is in familiar verse, agreeable to 
the taste of the times and the country. The author ad- 
dresses himself to the governors for the time being, 
speaks for liberty of conscience, and in favour of the 
anabaptists, quakers, and other sectaries, who had suf- 
fered persecution. To this persecution he attributes the 
wars with the natives, and other calamities which af- 
flicted the country, regarding them as the judgmentS'-of 



16 THE LIFE OF 

God in punishment of so odious an offenccj and he ex- 
horts the government to ihe repeal of laws so contrary 
to charity. The poem appeared to be written with a 
manjy freedom and a pleasing simplicity. I recollect 
the six concluding lines, though I have forgotten the 
order of words of the two first ; the sense of which was, 
that his censures were dictated by benevolence, and 
that, of consequence, he wished to be known as the au- 
thor ; because, said he, I hate from my very soul dissi- 
mulation : 

From Sherburne;* where I dwell, 

I therefore put my name, 
Your friend who means you well, 

Peter Folger. 

My brothers were all put apprentices to different 
trades. With respect to myself, I was sent, at the age 
of eight years to a grammar school. My father des- 
tined me for the church, and already regarded me as 
the chaplain of the family. The promptitude with 
which from my infancy 1 had learned to read, for I do 
not remember to have been ever without this acquire- 
ment, and the encouragements of his friends, who as- 
sured him that I should one day certainly become a man 
of letters, confirmed him in this design. My uncle 
Benjamin, approved also of the scheme, and promised to 
give me all his volumes of sermons, written, as I have 
said, in the short hand of his invention, if I would take 
the pains to learn it. 

I remained however scarcely a year at grammar 
school, although, in this short interval, I had risen from 
the middle to the head of my class, from thence to the 
class immediately above, and was to pass at the end of 
the year, to the one next in order. But my father, 
burthened with a numerous family, found that he was 
incapable, without subjecting himself to difficulties, of 

• Town in the Island of Nantucket. 



DR. 3?RAKKLIN. ^ 1< 

providing for ihc expense of a colie^iate education ; and 
considering besides, as I heard him ssy to his friends, 
that pel sons so educated were often poorly provided for, 
he rei>ounced his first intentions, took me from the 
grammar* school? and sent me to a school for writing 
and arithmetic, kept by a Mr. George Bromwel, who 
was a skilful master, and succeeded very well in his pro- 
fession by employing gentle means only, and such as 
were calculated to encourage his scholars. Under hiiH 
I soon acquired an excellent hand ; but I failed in arith- 
metic, and made therein no sort of progress. ^ 

At ten years of age> 1 was called home to assist my \ 
father in his occupation, which was that of soap-boiler 
and tallow-chandler ; a business to- which he had served 
no apprenticeship, but which he embraced on his arrival 
in New England, because he found his own, that of a 
dyer in two little request to enable him to maintain his 
family. I was accordingly employed in cutting the wicks, 
filling the moulds, taking care of the shops, carrying 
messages, 8cc. 

This business displeased me, arid I felt a strong in- 
clination for a sea life ; but my father set his face against 
it. The vicinity of the water, however, gave me fre- 
quent opportunities of venturing myself both upon and 
within it, and I soon acquired the art of swimming, and 
of managing a boat. — When embarked with other chil- 
dren, the helm was commonly deputed to me, particu- 
larly on difficult occasions ; and, hi every other project, 
I was almost always the leader of the troop, whom I 
sometimes involved in embarrassments. I shall give 
an instance of this, which demonstrates an early disposi- 
tion of mind for public enterprises, though the one in 
question was not conducted by justice. 

The mill pond was terminated on one side by a marsh, 
upon the borders of which we were accustomed to take 
our stand, at high water, to angle for small fish. By 
dint of walking, we had converted the place into a per- 
fe t quagmire. My proposal was to erect a wharf that 
should afford us firm footing ; and 1 pointed out to my 
companions a large heap of stones, intended for the build- 
B 2 



18. THE LIFE OF 

ins^ a new house near the marsh, and which were well 
adapted for our purpose. Accordingly, when the work- 
man retired in the evening, I assembled a numbet of my 
playfellows, and by l^bourin^ diUi:;ently, like ants, some- 
times four of us uniting our strength to carry a single 
stone, we removed them all, and constructed our little 
quay. The workmen were surprised the next morning 
at not finding their stones, which had been conveyed to 
our wharf. Inquiries were made respecting the authors 
of this conveyance; we were discovered; complaints 
were exhibited against us ; many of us underwent cor- 
rection on the part of our parents ; and though I strenu- 
ously defended the utility of the work, my father al length 
convinced me that nothing which was not strictly honest 
could be useful. 

It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to you tx) know 
what sort of a man my father was. He had an ex- 
cellent constitution, was of a middle size, but well made 
and strong, and extremely active in whatever he un- 
dertook. He designed with a degree of neatness, and 
knew a little of music. His voice was sonorous and 
agreeable ; so that when Ive sung a psalm or hymn 
with accompaniment of his violin, as was his frequent 
practice in an evening when the labours of the day 
were finished, it was truly delightful to hear him. He 
was v'ersed also in mechanics, and could upon occa- 
sion, use the tools of a variety of trades But his 
greatest excellence v/as a sound understanding and 
solid judgment in matters of produce, both in public 
and private life. In the former indeed he never en- 
gaged, because his numerous family and the medioc- 
rity of his fortune, kept him unremittingly employed 
In the duties of his profession. But I very well re- 
member that the leading men of the place used fre- 
quently to come and ask his advice respecting affairs of 
the town, or of the chmxh to which he belonged, and 
that they paid much deference to his opinion. Indivi- 
duals were also in the habit of consulting him in their 
private affairs, and he was often chosen arbiter between 
contending parties. 



dh. franklin. \9 

He was fond of having at his table, as often as possi- 
ble, some friends or well informed neighbours capable 
of rational conversation, and he was always careful to 
introduce useful or Ingenious topics of discourse, which 
might tend to form the minds of his children. By this 
means he early attracted our attention to what was just, 
prudent, and beneficial in the conduct of life. He ne- 
ver talked of the meats which appeared upon the ta- 
ble, never discussed whether they were well or ill dress- 
ed, of a good or bad flavour, high-seasoned or other- 
wise, preferable or inferior to this or that dish of a 
similar kind. Thus accustomed, from my infancy, to 
the utmost inattention as to those objects, I have al- 
ways been perfectly regardless of what kind of food 
was before me ; and I pay so little attention to it even 
now, that it would be a hard matter for me to recol- 
lect, a few hours after I had dined, of what my dinner 
had consisted. When travelling, I have particularly 
experienced the advantage of this habit ; for it has of- 
ten happened to me to be in comi>any with persons, 
who, having a more delicate, because a more exercised 
taste, have suffered in many cases considerable incon- 
venience, while, as to myself, I have had nothing to 
desire. 

My mother was likewise possessed of an excellent 
constitution. She suckled all her ten children, and I 
never heard either her or my father complain of any 
other disorder than that of which they died : my father 
at the age of eighty-seven, and my mother at eighty-five. 
They are buried together at Boston, where, a few years 
ago, I placed a marble over their gravcy with this inscrip- 
tion : 

/ 

*< HEBE LIE 

<' JosiAS Franklin and Abiah his wife : They lived 
" together with reciprocal affection for fifty-nine years; 
'* and without private fortune, without lucrative em- 
'' ployment, by assidious labour and honest industry, 
** decently supported a numerous family, and educa- 
<* ted with success, thirteen children, and seven grand- 



^0 IIIE LIFE OF 

" children. Let this example, reader, encourage you 
" dilii^ently to discharge the duties of thy calling, and 
f to rely on the support of Divine Providence. 

*• He was pious and prudent, 
" She discreet and virtuous. 

" Their youngest son, from a sentiment of fillial duty, 
'' consecrates this stone 

" To their memory.'* 



I perceive, by my rambling digressions, that I am 
growing old. But we do not dress for a private compa- 
^ny as for a formal ball. This deserves perhaps the name 
of negligence. 

To return, I thus continued employed in my father's 
trade for the space of two years ; that is to say, till I 
arrived at twelve years of age. About this time my 
brother John, who had served his apprenticeship in 
London, having quitted my father, and being married 
and settled in business on his own account at Rhode 
Island, I was destined, to all appearance, to supply iiis 
place, and be a candle-maker all my life : but my dis- 
like of this occupation continuing, my father was ap- 
prehensive, that, if a more agreeable one were not of- 
fered me, I might play the truent and escape to sea ; 
as, to his extreme mortification, my brother Josias had 
done. He therefore took me sometimes to see masons, 
coopers, braziers, joiners, and other mechanics, em- 
ployed at their work ; in order to discover the bent of 
my inclination, and fix it if he could uj)on some occu- 
pation that might retain me on shore. I have since, 
in consequence of these visits, derived no small plea- 
sure from seeing skilful workmen handle their tools ; 
and it has proved of considerable benefit, to have ac- 
quired thereby sufficient knowledge to be able to make 
little things for myself, when I have had no mechanic 






DR. FRANKLIN. 21 

at hand, and to construct small machines for my experi- 
ments, while the idea I have conceived has been fresh 
and strongly impressed on my imagination. 

My father at length decided that I should be a cut- 
ler, and I was placed for some days upon trial with my 
cousin Samuel, son of my uncle Benjamin, who had 
learned this trade in London, and had established him- 
self at Boston. But the premium he required for my 
apprenticeship displeasing my father, I was recalled 
home. 

From my earliest years I had been passionately fond 
of reading, and I laid out in books all the little money 
I could procure. I was particularly pleased with ac- 
counts of voyages. My first acquisition was Bunyan*s 
collection in small separate volumes. These I after- 
wards sold in order to buy an historical collection by R. 
Burton, which consisted of small cheap volumes, 
amounting in all to about forty or fifty. My father's lit- 
tle library was principally made up of books of practi- 
cal and polemical theology. I read the greatest part 
of them. 1 have since often regretted, that at a time 
when I had so great a thirst for knowledge, more eli- 
gible books had not fallen into my hands, as it was then 
a point decided that I should not be educated for the 
church. There was also among my father's books 
Plutarch's Lives, in which I read continually, and I 
still regard as advantageously employed the time I 
devoted to them. I found besides a work of De Foe, 
entitled, an Essay, on Projects, from which, perhaps, I 
derived impressions that have since influenced some 
of the principal events of my life. 

My inclination for books at last determined my fa- 
ther to make me a printer, though he had already a 
son in that profession. My brother had returned from 
England, in 1717, with a press and types, in order to 
establish a printing house at Boston. This business 
pleased me much better than that of my father, though 
I had still a predilection for the sea. To prevent the 
effects which might result from this inclination, my 
father was impatient to see me engaged with my bro- 



23 THE LIFE OF 

ther. I held back for some time ; at length, however, 
I suffered myself to be persuaded, and signed my inden- 
tures, being then only twelve years of age. It was 
agreed that I should serve as apprentice to the age of 
twenty-one, and should receive journeyman*3 wages 
only during the last year. 

In a very short time I made great proficiency in this 
business, and became very serviceable to my brother. 
I had now an opportunity of procuring better books. 
The acquaintance I necessarily formed with booksellers' 
apprentices, enabled me to borrow a volume now and 
then, which I never failed to return punctually and 
without injury. How often has it happened to me to 
pass the greater part of the night in reading by my 
bed-side, when the book had been lent me in the even- 
ing, and was to be returned the next morning, lest it 
'^' might be missed or wanted. 

At length, Mr. Matthew Adams, an ingenious 
tradesman, who had an handsome collection of books, 
and who frequented our printing house, took notice of 
me. He invited me to see his library ; and had the 
goodness to lend me any books I was desirous of read- 
ing. I then took a strange fancy for poetry, and com- 
posed several little pieces. My brother, thinking he 
might find his account in it, encouraged rne and en- 
gaged me to write two ballads. One, called the Light- 
house Tragedy, contained an accomit of the shipwreck 
of captain Worthilake and his two daughters ; the 
other was a sailor's song on the capture of the noted 
pirate, called Teach, or Black-beard. They were 
wretched verses in point of style, mere blind men's 
ditties. When printed, he despatched me about the 
town to sell them : the first had a prodigious run, be- 
cause the event was recent, and had made a great 
noise. 

My vanity was flattered by this success; but my 
father checked my exultation, by ridiculing my produc- 
tions, and telling me that versifiers were always poor. 
I thus escaped the misfortune of being, probably, a very 
wretched poet. But as the faculty of writing prose 



DB. FRANKLIN. 23 

has been of great service to me in the course of my life, 
and principally contributed to my advancement, I shall 
relate by what means situated as 1 was, I acquired the 
small skill I may possess in that way. 

There was in the town another young man, a great 
lover of books, of the name of John Collins, with 
whom I was intimately connected. We frequently 
engaged in dispute, and were indeed so fond of argu- 
mentation, that noihing was so agreeable to us as a 
war of words. This contentious temper, I would ob- 
serve by the bye, is in danger of becoming a very bad 
habit, and frequently renders a man*s company insup- 
portable, as being no otherwise capable of indulgence 
than by indiscriminate contradiction. Independently 
of the acrimony and discord it introduces into conver- 
sation, it is often productive of dislike, and even ha- 
tred, between persons to whom friendship is indispensi- 
bly necessary. I acquired it by reading, while I lived 
with my father, books of religious controversy. I have 
since remarked, that men of sense seldom fall into this 
error ; lawyers, fellows of universities, and persons of 
every profession educated at Edinburgh, excepted. 

Collins and I fell one day into an argument relative 
to the education of women ; namely, whether it were 
proper to instruct them in the sciences, and whether 
they were competent to the study. Collins supported 
the negative, and affirmed that the task was beyond 
their capacity. I maintained the opposite opinion, a 
little perhaps for the pleasure of disputing. He was 
naturally more eloquent than I ; words flowed copious- 
ly from his lips ; and frequently I thought myself van- 
quished, more by his volubility than by the force of his 
arguments. We separated without coming to an 
agreement upon this point ; and as we were not to see 
each otheragain for sometime, I committed my thoughts 
to paper, made a fair copy, and sent it to him. He an- 
swered, and I replied. Three or four letters had been 
written by each, when my father chanced to light up- 
on my papers and read ihem. Without entering into 
the merits of the cause, he embraced the opportunity 



24 THE LIFE Ot 

of speaking to me upon my manner of writing. He 
observed that though I had the advantage of my ad- 
versary in correct spelling and pointing which I owed 
to my occupation, I was greatly his inferior in ele- 
gance of expression, in arrangement and perspicuity. 
Of this he convinced me by several examples. I felt 
the justice of his remarks, became more attentive to 
language, and resolved to make every effort to improve 
my style. Amidst these resolves an odd volume of the 
Spectator fell into my hands. This was a publication 
I had never seen. I bought the volume, and read it 
again and again. I was enchanted with it, thought 
the style excellent, and wished it were in my power to 
imitate it; with this view, I selected some of the pa- 
pers, made short summaries of the sense of each periodf 
and put them for a few days aside. I then, without 
looking at thfe book, endeavoured to restore the es- 
says to their true form, and to express each thought at 
length, as it was in the original, employing the most 
appropriate words that occurred to my mind. I after- 
wards compared my Spectator with the original ; I 
perceived some faults, which I corrected : but I found 
that I wanted a fund of words, if I may so express 
myself, and a facility of recollecting and employing 
them, which I thought I should by that time have ac- 
quired, had I continued to make verses. The conti- 
nual need of words of the same meaning, but of dif- 
ferent lengths for the measure, or of different sounds 
for the rhyme would have obliged me to seek for a va- 
riety of synonymes, and have rendered me master of 
them. From this belief, I took some of the tales of 
the Spectator, and turned them into verse j and after a 
time, when I had sufficiently forgotten them, I again 
converted them into prose. 

Sometimes also 1 mingled all my summaries toge- 
ther ; and a few weeks after, endeavoured to arrange 
them in the best order, before I attempted to form the 
periods and complete the essays. This I did with a 
view of acquiring method in the arrangement of my 
thoughts. On comparing afterwards my performance 
%vith the original, many faults were apparent, which 



DR. FHANKLiK. 2i5 

1 torrected; but I had sometimes the satisfaction to 
think, that, in certain particulars of little importance, 
I had been fortunate enough to improve the order of 
thought or the style ; and this encouraged me to hope 
that I should succeed, in time, in writing the English 
language, which was one of the greatest oojects of my 
ambition. 

The time which I devoted to these exercises, and 
to reading, was the evening after my day's labour was 
finished, the morning before it began, and Sundays 
when I could escape attending divine service. While 
I lived with my father, he had insisted on my punctual 
attendance on public worship, and I still indeed consi- 
dered it as a duty, but a duty which I thought I had no 
time to practise. 

When about sixteen years of age, a work of Tryon 
fell into my hands, in which he recommends vegetable 
diet. I determined to observe it. My brother, being 
a bachelor, did not keep house, but boarded with his 
apprentices in a neighbouring family. My refusing 
to eat animal food was found inconvenient, ^nd I was 
often scolded for my singularity. I attended to the 
mode in which Tryon prepared some of his dishes, par- 
ticularly how to boil potatoes and rice, and make hasty 
puddings. I then said to my brother, that if he would 
allow me per week half what he paid for my board, I 
would undertake to maintain myself. The oifer was 
instantly embraced, and I soon found that of what he 
gavf me I was able to save half. This was a new fund 
for the purchase of books ; and other advantages re- 
sulted to me from the plan. When ray brother and his 
workmen left the printing-house to go to dinner, I re»- 
mained behind; and diispatching my frugal meal, which 
frequently consisted of a biscuit only, or a slice of bread 
and a bunch of raisins, or a bun from the pastry cook's, 
"With a glass of water, I had the rest of the time, till 
their return, for study; and my progress therein was 
proportioned to that clearness of ideas and quickness 
of conception, which are the fruit of temperance in 
eating and drinking. 

C 



^6 THE LIFE OF 

It was about this period that, having one day been 
put to the blush for my ignorance in the art of calcula- 
tion, which I had twice failed to learn while at school, 
I took Cocker's Treatise of Arithmetic, and went 
through it by myself with the utmost ease. I also read 
a book of Navigation by Seller and Sturmy, and made 
myself master of the little geometry it contains, but I 
never proceeded far in this science. Nearly at the 
same time I read Lock on the Human understand- 
ing, and the Art of thinking by Messrs. du Port- 
Royal. 

While labouring to form and improve my style, I 
met with an English Grammar, which I believe was 
Greenwood's, having at the end of it two little essays 
on rhetoric and logic. In the latter I found a model of 
disputation after the manner of Socrates. Shortly af- 
ter I procured Xenophon's work, entitled Memorable 
Things of Socrates, in which are various examples of 
the same method. Charmed to a degree of enthusiasm 
with this mode of disputing, I adopted it, and re- 
nouncing blunt contradiction, and direct and positive 
argument, I assumed the character of a humble ques- 
tioner. The perusal of Shaftsbury and Collins had 
made me a sceptic ; and being previously so as to ma- 
ny doctrines of Christianity, I found Socrates* method 
to be both the safest for myself, as well as the most em- 
barrassing to those against whom I employed it. It 
soon afforded me singular pleasure ; I incessantly prac- 
tised it ; and became very adroit in obtaining, even 
from persons of superior understanding, concessions of 
which they did not foresee the consequence. Thus I 
involved them in difficulties from which they were un- 
able to extricate themselves, and sometimes obtained 
victories which neither my cause nor my arguments 
merited. 

This method I continued to employ for some years ; 
but I afterwards abandoned it by degrees, retaining 
only the habit qf expressing myself with modest diffi- 
dence, and never making use, when I advanced any 
proposition which might be controverted, of the words 



DR, FRANKLIN. 37 

certainly, undoubtedly, or any others that might give 
the appearance of being obstinately attached to my 
opinion. I rather said I imagine, I suppose, or it ap- 
pears to me, that such a thing is so or so, for such and 
such reasons ; or it is so, if I am not mistaken. This 
habit has, I think been of considerable advantage to 
me, when I have had occasion to impress my opinion 
on the minds of others and persuade them to the adop- 
tion of the measures I have suggested. And since the 
chief ends of conversation are, to inform or to be in- 
formed, to please or to persuade, I could wish that in- 
telligent and well-meaning men would not themselves 
diminish the powers they possess of being useful, by a 
positive and presumptuous manner of expressing them- 
selves, which scarcely ever fails to disgust the hearer, 
and is only calculated to excite opposition and defeat 
every purpose for which the faculty of speech has been 
bestowed upon man. In short, if you wish to inform, a 
positive and dogmatical manner of advancing your 
opinion may provoke contradiction, and prevent your 
being heard with attention. Qn the other hand, if with 
a desire of being informed, and of benefiting by the 
knowledge of others, you express yourselves as being 
strongly attached to your own opinions, modest and sen- 
sible men, who do not love disputation, will leave you 
in tranquil possession of your errors. By following 
such a method, you can rarely hope to please your audi- 
tors, conciliate their good-will, or work conviction on 
those whom you may be desirous of gaining over to 
your views. Pope judiciously observes, 



Men must be taught as if you taught them not, 
And things unknown proposed as things forgot. 



And in the same poem he afterwards advises us, 
To speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence. 



28 THE LIFE OF 

He might have added to these lines, one that he Im:; 
coupled elsewhere, in my opinion, with less propriety. 
It is thus : 

For want of decency is want of sense. 

If you ask why I say with les9 propriety, I mu«t give 
you the two lines together : 

Immodest words admit of no defence. 
For want of decency is want of sense. 

Now want of sense, when a man has the misfortune to 
be so circumstanced, is it not a kind of excuse for want 
of modesty ? And wauld not the verses have been more 
accurate, if they had been constructed thus : 

Immodest words admit but this defence. 
That want of decency is want of sense.^ 

But I leave the decision of this to better judges than 
myself. 

In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to print a nev/ 
public paper. It was the second that made its appear- 
ance in America, and was entitled the JVew England 
Courant. The only one that existed before was the 
Boston A''ews Letter. Some of his friends, I remem- 
ber, would have dissuaded him from this undertaking, 
as a thing that was not likely to succeed ; a single news- 
paper being, in their opinion sufiicient for all America.^ 
At present, however, in 1777, there is no less than 
Iwenty-iive. But he carried his project into execution, 
and I was employed in distributing tlie copies to his 
customers, after having assisted in composing and 
working them off. 

Among his friends he had a number of literary cha- 
racters, who, as an amusement, wrote short essays for 
the paper, which gave it reputation and increased its 
sale. Those gentlemen came frequently to our house. 
I heard the conversation that passed, and the accounts 



1 



DR. FRANKLIK* 29 

they gave of the favourable reception of their writings, 
with the public. I was tempted to try my hand 
among them ; but, being still a child as it were, I was 
fearful that my brother might be unwilling to print in, 
his paper any performance of which he should know 
me to be the author. I therefore contrived to disguise 
my hand, and having written an anonymous piece, I 
placed it at night under the door of the printing-house, 
where it was found the next morning. My brother 
communicated it to his friends, when they came as usu- 
al to see him, who read it, commented upon it within 
my hearing, and I had the exquisite pleasure to find 
that it met with their approbation, and that, in the 
various conjectures they made respecting the author, 
no one was mentioned who did not enjoy a high repu- 
tation in the country for talents and genius. I now 
supposed myself fortunate in my judges, and began to 
suspect that they were not such excellent writers as I 
had hitherto supposed them. Be that as it may, en- 
couraged by this little adventure, I wrote and sent to 
the press, in the same way many other pieces, which 
were equally approved ; keeping the secret till my slen- 
der stock of information and knowledge for such per- 
formances was pretty completely exhausted, when I 
made myself known. 

.My brother, upon this discovery, began to entertain 
a little more respect for me ; but he still regarded 
himself as my master, and treated me like an apprentice- 
He thought himself entitled to the same services from 
me as from any other person. On the contrary, I 
conceived that, in many instances, he was too rigor- 
ous, and that on the part of a brother, I had a right 
to expect greater indulgence. Our disputes were fre- 
quently brought before my father ; and either my bro- 
ther was generally in the wrong, or I was the better 
pleader of the two, for judgment was commonly given 
in my favour. But my brother was passionate, and of- 
ten had recourse to blows ; a circumstance which I took 
in very ill part. This severe and tyrannical treatment 
contributed, I believe, to imprint on my mind that 
C2 



30 



THE LIFE or 



aversion to arbitrary power, which during my wholef 
life I have ever preserved. My apprenticeship became 
insupportable to me, and I continually sighed for an 
opportunity of shortening it, which at length unex- 
pectedly offered. 

An article inserted in our paper upon some political 
subject which I have now forgotten, gave offence to 
the Assembly. My brother was taken into custody, 
censured, and ordered into confinement for a month, 
because, as I presume, he would not discover the au- 
thor. I was also taken up, and examined before the 
council ; but, though I gave them no satisfaction, they 
contented themselves with reprimanding, and then dis- 
missed me ; considering me probably bound in quality 
of an apprentice, to keep my master's secrets. 

The imprisonment of my brother kindled my re- 
sentment, notwithstanding our private quarrels. Du- 
ring its continuance the management of the paper wa^ 
entrusted to me, and I was bold enough to insert some 
pasquinades against the governors ; which highly plea- 
sed my brother, while athers began to look upon me in 
an unfavourable point of view, considering me as a 
young wit inclined to satire and lampoon. 

My brother's enlargement was accompanied with 
an arbitrary order from the house of assembly, " That 
" James Franklin should no longer print the newspa- 
" per entitled the JVew-England Courant** In this 
conjuncture, we held a consultation of our friends at 
the printing-house, in order to determine what was 
proper to be done. Some proposed to evade the order 
by changing the title of the paper ; but my brother 
foreseeing inconveniences that would result from this 
step, thought it better that it should in future be print- 
ed in the name of Benjamin Franklin ; and to avoid 
the censure of the assembly, who might charge him 
with still printing the paper himself, under the name 
of his apprentice, it was resolved that my old indentures 
should be given up to me, with a full and entire dis- 
charge written on the back, in order to be produced 
upon an emergency ; but that to secure to my bro- 



ther the benefit of my service, I should sign a new con- 
tract which should be kept secret during the remainder 
of the term. This was a very shallow arrangement. It 
was, however, carried into immediate execution, and 
the paper continued, in consequence, to make its ap-' 
pearance for some months in my name. At length a 
new difference arising between my brother and me, I 
ventured to take advantage of my liberty, presuming 
that he would not dare to produce the new contract. It 
was undoubtedly dishonourable to avail myself of this 
circumstance, and I reckon this action as one of the first 
errors of my life ; but I was little capable of estimating 
it at its true value, embittered as my mind had been by 
the recollection of the blows I had received. Exclu- 
sively of his passionate treatment of me, my brother 
•was by no means a man of an ill temper, and perhaps 
my manners had too much of impertinence not to 
afford it a very natural pretext. 

When he knew that it was my determination to quit 
him, he wished to prevent my finding employment else- 
where. He went to all the printing houses in the town, 
and prejudiced the masters against me, who accordingly 
refused to employ me. The idea then suggested itself 
to me of going to New-York, the nearest town in which 
there was a printing office. Farther reflection confirm- 
ed me in the design of leaving Boston, where I had al- 
ready rendered myself an object of suspicion to the go- 
verning party. It was probable, from the arbitrary 
proceedings of the assembly in the affair of my brother, 
that by remaining I should soon have been exposed to 
difficulties, which I had the greater reason to appre- 
hend, as from my indiscreet disputes upon the subject 
of religion, I begun to be regarded by pious souls with 
horror, either as an apostate or an atheist. I came, there- 
fore, to a resolution ; but my father, in this instance, 
siding with my brother, I presumed that if I attempted 
to depart openly, measures would be taken to prevent 
me. My friend Collins undertook to favour my flight. 
He agreed for my passage with the captain of a New- 
York sloop, to whom he represented me as a young man 



/ , 



33 THE LIFE OF 

of his acquaintance,' who had had an affair with a girl 
of bad character, whose parents wished to compel me 
to marry her, and that of consequence, I could neither 
make*my appearance, nor go off publicly. I sold part 
ef my books to procure a small sum of money, and 
went privately on board the sloop. By favour of a 
good wind I found myself in three days at New- York, 
nearly three hundred miles from my home, at the 
age only of seventeen years, without knowing an in- 
dividual in the place, and with very little money in my 
pocket. 

The inclination I had felt for a seafaring life was 
entirely subsided, or I should now have been able to 
gratify it ; but having another trade, and believing 
myself a tolerable workman, I hesitated not to offer my 
services to the old Mr. William Bradford, who had 
been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but had quitted 
that province on account of a quarrel with George 
Keith the governor. He could not give me employ- 
ment himself, having little to do, and already as many 
persons as he wanted ; but he told me that his son, 
printer at Philadelphia, had lately lost his principal 
workman, Aquila Rose, who was dead, and that if I 
would go thither, he believed he would engage me. 
Philadelphia was an hundred miles farther. I hesi- 
tated not to embark in a boat in order to repair, by the 
shortest cut of the sea, to Amboy, leaving my trunk and 
effects to come after me by the usual and more tedious 
conveyance. In crossing the bay we met with a squall, 
which shattered to pieces our rotten sails, prevented 
us from entering the Kill, and threw us upon Long 
Island. 

During the squall, a drunken Dutchman, who like 
myself was a passenger in the boat, fell into the sea. 
At the moment that he was sinking, I seized him by 
the fore-top, saved him, and drew him on board. This 
Immersion sobered him a little, so that he' fell asleep, 
after !:aving taken from his pocket a volume, which he 
requested me to dry. This volume I found to be my 
old favourite work, Eunyan*s Voyages, in Dutch, a 



UR. FRANKLIM. 33 

beautiful impression on fine paper, with copperplate en- 
gravings ; a dress in which I had never seen it in its 
original language. I have since learned that it has 
been translated into almost all the languages of Europe, 
and next to the Bible, I am persuaded, it is one of the 
books which has had the greatest spread. Honest John 
is the first, that I know of, who has mixed narrative and 
dialogue together ; a mode of writing very engaging 
to the reader, who in the most interesting passages, 
finds himself admitted, as it were, into the company, 
and present at the conversation. De Foe has imitated 
it with success in his Robinson Crusoe, his Moll Flan- 
ders, and other works ; as also has Richardson in his 
Pamelia, &c. 

In approaching the island we found that we had made 
a part of the coast where it was not possible to land, 
on account of the strong breakers produced by the 
rocky shore. We cast anchor and veered the cable 
towards the shore. Some men, who stood upon the 
brink, hallooed to us, while we did the same on our 
part ; but the wind was so high, and the waves so noisy, 
that we could neither of us hear each other. There 
were some canoes upon the bank, and we called out 
to them, and made signs to prevail on them to come 
and take us up ; but either they did not understand us, 
or they deemed our request impracticable, and with- 
drew. Night come on, and nothing remained for us, 
but to wait quietly the subsiding of the wind ; till when 
we determined, (that is, the pilot and I,) to sleep if pos- 
sible. For that purpose we went below the hatches 
along with the Dutchman, who was drenched with 
water. The sea broke over the boat, and reached us 
in our retreat, so that we were presently as completely 
<lrenched as he. 

We had very little repose during the whole night : 
but the wind abating the next day, we succeeded in 
reaching Amboy before it was dark, after having passed 
thirty hours without provisions, and with no other drink 
than a bottle of bad rum, the water upon which we row- 
ed being salt. In the evening I went to bed with a very 



34 THIB Llf E OV 

violent fever. I had somewhere read that cold water, 
drank plentifully, was a remedy in such cases. I fol- 
lowed the prescription, was in a profuse sweat for the 
greater part of the night, and the fever left me. The 
next day I crossed the river in a ferry-boat, and conti- 
nued my journey on foot. I had fifty nliles to walk, in 
order to reach Burlington, where I was told I should 
find passage-boats that would convey me to Philadel* 
phia. It rained hard the whole day, so that I was wet 
to the skin. Finding myself fatigued about noon, I 
stopped at a paltry inn, where I passed the rest of the 
day and the whole night, beginning to regret that I had 
quitted my home. I made besides so wretched a figure, 
that I was suspected to be some runaway servant. This 
I discovered by the questions that were asked me j and 
I felt that I was every moment in dan|;eiitof being taken 
up as such. The next day, however, I continued my 
journey, and arrived in the evening at an inn, eight or 
ten miles from Burlington, that was kept by one Dr. 
Brown. 

This man entered into conversation with me while I 
took some refreshment, and perceiving that I had read 
a little, he expressed towards me considerable interest 
and friendship. Our acquaintance continued during the 
remainder of his life. I believe him to have been what 
is called an itinerant doctor ; for there was no town in 
England, or indeed in Europe, of which he could not 
give a particular account. He was neither deficient in 
understanding nor literature, but he was a sad infidel; 
and, some years after, undertook to travesty the Bible 
in burlesque verse, as Cotton has travested Virgil. He 
exhibited, by this means, many facts in a ludicrous 
point of view, .which would have given umbrage to 
weak minds, had his work been published, which it 
never was. 

I spent the night at his house, and reached Burling- 
ton he next morning. On my arrival, I had the 
mortification to learn that the ordinary passage-boats 
had sailed a little before. This was on a Saturday, and 
there would be no other boat till the Tuesday following. 



OR, FRANKLIN. 35 

I returned to the house of an old woman in the town 
who had sold me some gingerbread to eat on my pas- 
sage, and asked her advice. She invited me to take 
up my abode with her till an opportunity offered for me 
to embark. Fatigued with having travelled so far on 
foot, I accepted her invitation. When she understood 
that I was a printer, she would have persuaded me to 
stay at Burlington, and set up my trade : but she was 
little aware of the capital that would be necessary for 
such a purpose ! I was treated while at her house with 
true hospitality. She gave me, with the utmost good- 
will, a dinner of beef-steaks, and would accept of 
nothing in return but a pint of ale. 

Here I imagined myself to be fixed till the Tuesday 
in the ensuing week ; but walking out in the evening by 
the river side, I saw a boat with, a number of persons in 
it approach. It was going to Philadelphia, and the com- 
pany took me in. As there was no wind, we could only 
make way with our oars. About midnight, not per- 
ceiving the town, some of the company were of opinion 
that we must have passed it, and were unwilling to 
row any farther ; the rest not knowing where we were, 
it was resolved that we should stop We drew towards 
the shore, entered the creek, and landed near some old 
palisades, which served us for fire-wood, it being a 
cold night in October. Here we stayed till day, when 
one of the company found the place in which we were 
to be Cooper's Creek, a little above Philadelphia, which 
in reality we perceived the moment we were out of 
the creek. We arrived on Sunday about eight or nine 
o'clock in the morning, and landed on Market street 
wharf. 

I have entered into the particulars of my voyage, 
and shall in like manner describe my first entrance 
into this city, that you may be able to compare begin- 
nings so little auspicious, with the figure I have since 
made. 

On my arrival at Philadelphia I was in my working 
dress, my best clothes being to come by sea. I was 
covered with dirt 5 my pockets were filled with shirts 



36 THE LIPS; O^ 

and stockings ; I was unacquainted with a single soul 
in the place, and I knew not where to seek for a 
lodging. Fatigued with walking, rowing, and having 
passed the night without sleep, I was extremely hun- 
gry, and all my money consisted of a Dutch dollar, and 
about a shilling's worth of coppers which I gave to 
the boatmen for my passage. As I had assisted them 
in rowmg, they refused it at first ; but I insisted on 
their taking it. A man is sometimes more generous 
when he has little than when he has much money ; pro- 
bably because in the first case, he is desirous of con- 
cealing his poverty. 

I walked towards the top of the street, looking eager- 
ly on both sides, till I came to Market street, where I 
met a child with a loaf of bread. Often had I made my 
dinner on dry bread. 1 inquired where he had bought 
it, and went straight to the baker's shop which he 
pointed out to me. I asked for some biscuits, expect- 
ing to find such as we had at Boston ; but they made, it 
seems, none of that sort at Philadelphia. I then asked 
for a three-penny loaf. They made no loaves of that 
price. Finding myself ignorant of the prices, as well 
as of the different kinds of bread, I desired him to let 
me have three penny-worth of bread of some kind or 
other. He gave me three large rolls. I was surprised 
at receiving so much : I took them, however, and having 
no room in my pockets, I walked on with a roll under 
each arm, eating the third. In this manner I went 
through Market street to Fourth street, and passed the 
house of Mr. Read, the father of my future wife. She 
was standing at the door, observed me, and thought 
with reason that I made a very singular and grotesque 
appearance. 

i then turned the corner and went through Ches- 
nut street, eating my roll all the way ; and having made 
this round, I found myself again on Market street 
wharf, near the boat in which I had arrived. I step- 
ped into it to take a draught of the river water ; and 
finding myself satisfied with my first roll, I gave the 
other two to a woman and her child, who had come 



DR. FRANKLIN'. o7 

down the river with us in the boat, and was waiting 
to continue her journey. Thus refreshed, I regained 
the street, which was now full of well dressed people, 
all i^oing the same way. I joined ihem, and was thus 
led to a large Quakers* meeting-house near the market 
place. I sat down with the rest, and after looking 
round me for some time hearing nothing said, and be- 
ing drowsy from my last night's labour and want of 
rest, I fell into a sound sleep. In this state 1 conti- 
nued till the assembly dispersed, when one of the con- 
gregation had the goodness to wake me. This was 
consequently the first house I entered, or in which I 
slept at Philadelphia. 

1 began again to walk along the street by the river 
side ; and looking attentively at the face of every one 
1 met, I at length perceived a young quaker whose 
countenance pleased me. I accosted him, and begged 
him to inform me where a stranger might find a lodg- 
ing. We were then near the sign of the Three Ma- 
riners. They receive travellers here, said he, but it 
is not a house that bears a good character ; if you will 
go with me, I will shew you a better one. He con- 
ducted me to the Crooked Billet in Water-Street. 
There I ordered something for dinner, and during my 
meal a number of curious questions were put to me; 
my youth and appearance exciting the suspicion of my 
being a runaway. After dinner my drowsiness re- 
turned, and I threw myself upon a bed without taking 
off my clothes, and slept till six o'clock in the evening, 
when I was calkd to supper. I afterwards went to bed 
at a very early hour, and did not awake till the next 
morning. 

As soon as I got up I put myself in as decent a 
trim as I could, and went to the house of Andrew 
Bradford the printer. I found his father in the shop, 
whom I had seen at New-York. Having travelled on 
horseback, he had arrived at Philadelphia* before me. 
He introduced me to his son, who received me with 
civility, and gave me some breakfast; but told me he had 
Ro occasion at present for a journeyman, having lately 

D 



38 THE LIFE OS 

procured one. He added, that there was atiOtner printer 
newly settled in the town, of the name of Keimeri 
who i-nip;ht perhaps employ me ; and that in case of a 
refusal, I should be welcome to lodge at his house, and 
he would give me a little work now and then, till some- 
thing better should offer. 

The old man offered to introduce me to the new 
printer. When we were at his house; " Neighbour,'* 
said he, *' I bring you a young man in the printing bu- 
siness ; perhaps you may have need of his services." 

Keimer asked me some questions, put a composing 
.slick in my hand to see how I could work, and then 
said, that at present he had nothing for me to do, but 
that he should soon be able to employ me. At the 
same time taking old Bradford for an inhabitant of the 
town well*disposed towards him, he communicated his 
project to him, and the prospect he had of success- 
Bradford was careful not to discover that he was the 
father of the other printer; and from what Kein^r had 
said, that he hoped shortly to be in possession of the 
greater part of tlie business of the town, led him by art- 
liii questions, and by starting some difficulties, to disclose 
yll his views, what his hopes were founded upon, and 
how he intended to proceed. I was present, and heard it 
all. I instantly saw that one of the two was a cunning 
old fox, and the other a perfect novice. Bradford left 
me with Keinier, who was strangely surprised when I 
informed him who the old man was. 

i found Keimer's printing materials to consist of an 
old damaged press, and a small font of worn-out Eng- 
lish letters, wiih which he was himself at work upon 
an elogy on Aquilla Kobe, whom I have mentioned 
above, an ingenious young man, and of an excellent 
character, highly csiecmt din the town, secretary to the 
assembly, and a very tolerable poet. Keimer also made 
verses, but they were indifferent ones. He could not 
be said to* write in verse, for his method was to 
set the lines as they flowed from his muse; and as 
he worked without copy, had but one set of letter cases, 
imd the ciogy vould probable occupy all his type, il 



DR. FRANSLLIN. 39 

was impossible for any one to assist him. I endeavour- 
ed to put his press in order, which he had not yet used, 
and of which indeed he understood nothing : and hav- 
ing promised to come and work off his elogy as soon 
as it should be ready, I returned to the house of Brad- 
ford, who gave me some trifle to do for the present, for 
which I had my board and lodging. 

In a few days Keimer sent for me to print off his 
elogy. He had now procured another set of leiter-cases, 
and had a pamphlet to reprint, upon which he set me to 
■work. 

The two Philadelphia printers appeared destitute of 
every qualification necessary in their profession. Brad- 
ford had not been brought up to it, and was very illi- 
terate. Keimer, though he understood a little of the bu- 
siness, was merely a compositor, and wholly incapable 
of working at the press. He had been one of the French 
prophets, and knew how to imitate their supernatural 
agitations. At the time of our first acquaintance he 
professed no particular religion, but a little of all upon 
occasion. He was totally ignorant of the world, and a 
great knave at heart, as I had afterwards an opportunity 
of experiencing. 

Keimer could not endure that, M'orking with him, I 
should lodge at Bradford's. He had indeed a house, but 
it was unfurnished ; so that he could not take me in. 
He procured me a lodging at Mr. Read's his landlord, 
whom I have already mentioned. My trunk and effects 
being now arrived, I thought of making, in the eyes of 
Miss Read, a more respectable appearance than when 
chance exhibited me to her view, eating my roll, and 
wandering in the streets. 

From this period I began to contract acquaintance 
with such young people of the town as were lond of 
reading, and spent my evenings with thera agreeably, 
while at the same time I gained money by my industry, 
and, thanks to my frugality, lived contented. J thus 
forgot Boston as much as possible, and wished every one 
to be ignorant of the place of my residence, except my 
friend Coliint) to whom I wrote, and who kept my 
secret. 



40 THE LIFE OF 

An incident however arrived, which sent nie home 
much sooner than I had proposed. 1 had a brother in- 
law, of the name of Robert Holmes, master of a trad- 
ing sloop from Boston to Delaware. Being at New- 
castle, forty niiiles below Philddelphia, he heard of me, 
and wrote to inform me of the chagrin which my sud- 
den departure from Boston had occasioned my parents, 
and of the affection which they still entertained for me, 
assuring me that, if I would return, every thing should 
be adjusted to my satisfaction ; and he was very press- 
ing in his entreaties. I answered his letter, thanked him 
for his advice, and explained the reasons which had in- 
duced me to quit Boston, with such force and clearness, 
that he was convinced I had been less to blame than he 
had imagined. 

Sir William Keith, governor of the province, was 
at Newcastle at the time. Captain Holmes, being by 
chance in his company when he received my letter» 
took occasion to speak of me, and shewed it to him. 
The governor read it, and appeared surprised when he 
learned my age. He thought me, he said, a young 
man of very promising talents, and that of consequence 
I ought to be encouraged ; and there were at Phila- 
delphia none but very ignorant printers, and that, if 
I were to^ set up for myself, he had no doubt of my 
success; that, for his own part, he would procure me 
all the public business, and would render me every 
other service in his power. My brother-in-law rela- 
ted all this to me afterwards at Boston ; but I knevtr 
nothing of it at the time ; when one day Keimer and 
I being at woik together near the window, we saw the 
governor, and another gentleman. Col. French of New- 
castle, handsomely dressed, cross the street, and make 
directly for our house. We heard them at the door, 
and Keimer, believing it to be a visit to himself, 
went immediately down ; but the governor inquired for 
me, came up stairs, and, with a condescension and po- 
liteness to which I hid not at all been accustomed, paid 
me many compliments, desired to be acquainted with 
me, obligingly reproached mc for not having made 



DR. FUANKLIN. 41 

anyself known to him on my arrival in the town, and 
wished mc to accompany him to a tavern, where he and 
Colonel French^ were going, to taste some excellent 
Madeira wine. 

I was, I confess somewhat surprised, and Keimer 
appeared thunderstruck. I went however with the 
t]^overnor and the colonel to a tavern at the corner of 
Third-street, where, while we were drinking the Ma- 
deira, he proposed to me to estabiish a printing-house. 
He set forth the proi>abiIities of success, and himself 
and colonel French assured me that I should have their 
protection and influence in obtaining the printint^ of 
the public papers of both governments ; and as I ap- 
peared to doubt whether my father would assist me in 
this enterprise, Sir William said that he would give 
me a letter to him, in which he would represent the 
advantages of the scheme, in a light which he had no 
doubt would determine him. It was thus concluded 
that I should return to Boston by the first vessel, with 
the letter of recommendation from the governor to my 
father. Meanwhile the project was to be kept secret, 
and I continued to work for Keimer as before. 

The governor sent every now and then to invite me 
to dine with him. I considered this as a very great 
honoui- : and I was the more sensible of it, as he convers- 
ed with me in the most affable, l^^miliar and friendly 
manner imaginabie. 

Towards the end of April 1724, a small vessel was 
ready to sail for Boston. I took leave of Keimer, upon 
the pretext of going to see my parents. The governor 
gave me a long letter, in which he s-iid many flattering 
things of me to my father ; and stroni;ly recommended 
the project of my settling at Philadelphia, as a thing 
which could not fail to make my fortune. 

Going down the bay we struck on a flat, and sprung a 
leak. The weather was very tem{)estuous, and we were 
obliged to pump without intermission ; 1 took my turn. 
We arrived however safe and sound at Boston, after 
ftboiU a foi'tnigl>;'s passage. 

D 2 



43 THE LIFE QF 

I had been absent seven complete months, and my 
relations during that interval, had received no intelli- 
gence of me; for my brother-in-law, Holmes, was not 
yet returned, and had not written about me. My unex- 
pected appearance surprised the family ; but they were 
all delighted at seeing me again, and, except my bro- 
ther, welcomed me home. I went to him at the print- 
jng-office. I was better dressed than I had ever been 
while in his service : I had a complete suit of clothes, 
new and neat, a watch in my pocket, and my purse was 
furnished with nearly five pounds sterling in money. 
He gave me no very civil reception, and having eyed 
me from head to foot, resumed his work. 

The workman asked me with eagerness where I had 
been, what sort of a country it weis, and how I liked 
it. I spoke in the highest terms of Pliiladelphia, the 
happy life we led there, and expressed my intention of 
going back again. One of them asking what sort of 
money we had, I displayed before them a handful of 
silver, which I drew from my pocket. This was 
a curiosity to which they were not accustomed, paper 
being the current money at Boston. I failed not after 
this to let them see my watch ; and at last, my bro- 
ther continuing sullen and out of humour, I gave them 
a shilling to drink, and took my leave. This visit 
stung my brother to the soul ; for when, shortly after 
my mother spoke to him of a reconciliation, and a de- 
sire of seeing us upon good terms, he told her that I 
had so insulted him before his men, that he would ne» 
ver forget or forgive it ; in this, however, he was mis- 
taken. 

The governor's letter 'appeared to excite in my fa- 
ther some surprise ; but he said little. After some 
days, capt. Holmes being returned, he shewed it to 
him, asking him if he knew Keith, and what sort of a 
man he was : adding, that in his opinion, it proved 
very little discernment to think of setting up a boy in 
business, who for three years to come would not be of 
an age to be ranked in the class of men. Holmes said 
every thing he could in favour of the scheme j but 



DR. FRANKLIN. 43^^ 

iny father firmly maintained its absurdity, and at last 
gave a positive refusal. He wrote, however a civil 
letter to Sir William, thanking him for the protection 
he had so obligingly offered me, but refusing to assist 
me for the present, because he thought me too young 
to be entrusted with the conduct of so important an en- 
terprise, and which would require so considerable a 
sum of money. 

My old comrade Collins, who was a clerk in the 
post-office, charmed with the account I gave of my 
new residence, expressed a desire of going thither ; 
and while I waited my father's determination, he set off 
before me, by land, for Rhode-Island, leaving his 
books, which formed a handsome collection in mathe- 
matics and natural philosophy, to be conveyed with 
mine to New-York, where he purposed to wait for 
me. 

My father, though he could not approve Sir William's 
proposal, was yet pleased that I had obtained so advan- 
tageous a recommendation as that of a person of his 
rank, and that my industry and economy had enabled 
me to equip myself so handsomely in so short a period. 
Seeing no appearance of accommodating matters be- 
tween my brother and me, he consented to my return 
to Philadelphia, advised me to be civil to every body, 
to endeavour to obtain general esteem, and avoid satire 
and sarcasm, to which he thought I was too much 
inclined ; adding, that, with perseverance and prudent 
economy, I might by the time I became of age, save 
enough to establish myself in business ; and that if a 
small sum should then be wanting, he would undertake 
to supply it. 

This was all I could obtain from him, except some 
trifling presents, in token of friendship from him and 
my mother. I embarked once more for New-York, 
furnished at this time with their approbation and bles- 
sing. The sloop having touched at Newport in Rhode- 
Island, 1 paid a visit to my brother John, who had for 
some years been settled there, and was married. He 
had always been attached to me, and received me with 



44 THE LIFE OF 

great afTection. One of his friends, whose name was 
Vernon, having a debt of about thirty six pounds due 
to him in Pennsylvania, begged me to receive it for 
him, and keep the money till I should kear from him : 
accordingly he gave me an order for that purpose. 
This affair occasioned me, in the sequel, much uneasi- 
ness. 

At Newport we took on board a number of passen- 
gers ; among whom were two young women, and a 
grave and sensible quaker lady with her servants. I 
had shown an obliging forwardness in rendering the 
quaker some trifling services, which led her probably, 
to feel some interest in my welfare ; for when she saw 
a familiarity take place, and every day increase, be- 
tween the two young woman and me, she took me aside 
and said, << Young man I am in pain for thee. Thou 
hast no parent to watch over thy conduct, and thou 
secmest to be ignorant of the world, and the snares to 
which youth is exposed. Rely upon what I tell thee; 
those are woman of bad characters ; I perceive it in all 
their actions. If thou dost not take care, they will lead 
thee into danger. They are strangers to thee, and I 
advise thee, by the friendly interest I take in thy pre- 
servation, to form no connection with them." As I ap- 
peared at first not to think quite so ill of them as she 
did, she related many things she had seen and heard, 
which had escaped my attention, but which convinced 
me she was in the right. I thanked her for her obli* 
ging advice, and promised to follow it. 

When we arrived at New-York, they informed me 
where they lodged, and invited me to come and see 
them. I did not however go, and it was well I did 
not; for the next day, the captain missing a silver 
spoon and some other things which had been taken 
from the cabin, and knowing these women to be pros- 
titutes, procured a search warrant, found the stolen 
goods upon them, and had them punished. And thus 
after having been saved from one rock concealed un- 
der water, upon which the vessel struck during our pas- 



DR. FRANKLIN. 45 

sage, I escaped another of a still more dangerous na- 
ture. 

At New York I found my friend Collins, who had ar- 
rived some time before. We had been intimate from 
our infancy, and had read the same books together; and 
he had the advantage of beitig able to devote more time 
to reading and study, and an astonishing disposition for 
mathematics, in which he left me far behind him. 
When at Boston, 1 had been accustomed to pass with 
him almost all my leasure hours. He was then a sober 
and industrious lad ; his knowledge had gained him a 
very general esteem, and he seemed to promise to make 
an advantageous figure in society. But during my ab- 
sence, he had unfortunately addicted himself to brandy, 
and I learned, as well from himself as from the report 
ef others, that every day since his arrival at New York 
he had been intoxicated, and had acted in a very ex- 
travagant manner. He had also played, and lost all 
his money ; so that I was obliged to pay his expenses 
at the inn, and to maintain him during the rest of 
the journey ; a burden that was very inconvenient to 
roe. 

The governor of vN«w York, whose name was Bur- 
net, hearing the captain say that a young man who was 
a passenger in his ship had a great number of books, 
begged him to bring me to his house. I accordingly 
went and should have taken Collins with me had he 
been sober. I'he governor treated me with great civi- 
lity, showed me his library, which was a very consider- 
able one, and we talked for some time upon books and 
authors. This was the second governor who had hon- 
oured me with his attention ; and to a poor boy, as I 
then was, these little adventures did not fail to be 
pleasing. 

We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I received 
Vernor/s money, without which we should have been 
unable to have finished our journey. 

Collins wished to get employment as a merchant's 
clerk ; but either his breath or his countenance betray- 
ed his bad habit j for though he had recommendations, 



45 THE LIFE OF 

he met with lio success, and continued to lodge and eat 
viih me, at my expense. Knowing that I had Vernon*s 
money, he was continually asking me to lend him some 
of it ; promising to repay me as soon as he couUr get 
employment. At last he had drawn so much of this 
money, that I was extremely alarmed at what might 
become of me, should he fail to make good the defi- 
ciency. His habit of drinking did not at all diminish, 
and was a frequent source of discord between us ; for 
when he had drank a little too much, he was very head- 
strong. 

Being one day in a boat together, on the Delaware 
with some other young persons, he refused to take his 
turn in rowing. " You shall row for me," said he, " till 
wc get home.**— «' No," I replied, " we will not row for 
you."—" You shall," said he, " or remain upon the 
water all night." — " As you please." — " Let us row," 
said the rest of the company, " what signifies whether 
he assists or not," But, already angry with him for his 
conduct in other respects, I persisted in my refusal. 
He then swore that he would make me row, or would 
throw me out of the boat ; and he made up to me. As 
soon as he was within my reach I took him by the col- 
lar, gave him a violent thrust, and threw him head fore- 
most into the river. I knew that he was a good swim- 
met, and was therefore under no apprehensions for his 
life. Before he could turn himself we were able, by a 
few strokes of our oars, to place ourselves out of his 
reach ; and whenever he touched the boat, we asked 
him if he would row, striking his hands with the oars 
to make him let go his hold. He was nearly suffocat- 
ed with rage, but obstinately refused making any pro- 
mise to row. Perceiving at length that his strength be- 
gan to be exhausted, we took him into the boat, and 
conveyed him home in the evening, completely drench- 
ed. The utmost coldness subsisted between us after 
this adventure. At last a captain of a West India ship, 
who was commissioned to procure a tutor for tiie chil- 
dren of a gentleman at Barbadoes, meeting with Col- 
lips, offered him the place. He accepted it, and took 



DR. FRANKLIN. ,47 

his leave of me, promising to discharge the debt he 
owed me with the first money he should receive ; but I 
have heard nothing of him since. 

The violation of the trust reposed in me by VernoDj 
was one of the first great errors of my life; and it 
proves that my father was not mistaken when he sup- 
posed me too young to be entrusted with the manage- 
ment of important affairs. But Sir William, upon 
reading his letter, thought him too prudent. There 
was a difference, he said, between individuals : years of 
maturity were not always accompanied with discretion, 
neither was youth in every instance devoid of it. Since 
your father, anded he, will not set you up in business, 
I will do it myself. Make out a list of what will be 
wanted from England, and I will send for the articles. 
You shall repay me when you can. I am determined 
to have a good printer here, and I am sure you will 
succeed. This was said with so much seeming cor- 
diality, that I suspected not for an instant the sincerity 
of the offer. I had hitherto kept the project with 
which sir* William had inspired me, of settling in busi- 
ness at Philadelphia^ a secret, and I still continued to 
do so. Had my reliance on the governor been known, 
some friend, better acquainted with his character than 
myself, would d.ubtless have advised me not to trust 
him ; for I afterwards learned that he was universally 
known to be liberal of promises, which he had no in- 
tention to perform. But having never solicited him, 
how could I suppose his offer to be deceitful ? On 
the contrary I believed him to be the best man in the 
world. 

1 gave him an inventory of a small printing office : 
the expence of which I had calculated at about an hun- 
dred pounds sterling. He expressed his approbation ; 
but asked if my presence in England, that I might 
choose the characters myself, and see that every ar- 
ticle was good in its kind, would not be an advantage. 
You will also be able, said he, to form some acquain- 
tance there, and establish a correspondence wiih sta- 
tioners and booksellers. This I acknowledged was de- 



48 THE LIFE OF 

sirable. That being the case, added he, hold yourself 
in readiness to go withthe Annis. This was the annual 
vessel, and the only one, at that lime, which made regu- 
lar voyages between the ports of London and Philadel- 
phia. But the Annis was not to sail for some months. 
1 therefore continued to work with Keimer, unhappy 
respecting the sum which Collins had drawn from me, 
and almost in continual agony at the thoughts of Ver- 
non, who fortunately made no demand of his money till 
several years after. 

In the account of my first voyage from Boston to 
Philadelphia, I omitted, I believe, a trifling circum- 
stance, which will not perhaps be out of place here. 
During a calm that stopped us above Block Island, the 
crew employed themselves in fishing for cod, of which 
they caught a great number. I had hitherto adhered 
to my resolution of not eating any thing that had pos- 
sessed life ; and I considered on this occasion, agree- 
ably to the maxims of my master Tryon, the capture 
of every fish as a sort of murder, committed without 
provocation, since these animals had neither done, nor 
were capable of doing, the smallest injury to any one 
that should justify the measure. This mode of reason- 
ing I conceived to be unanswerable. Meanwhile I 
had formerly been extremely fond of fish ; and when 
one of these cod was taken out of the frying-pan, I 
thought its flavour delicious. I hesitated some time 
between principle and inclination, till at last recollect- 
ing, that when the cod had been opened, some small 
fish were found in its belly, I said to myself, if you eat 
one another, I see no reason why we may not eat you, 
I accordingly dined on the cod with no small degree 
of pleasure, and have since continued to eat like the 
rest of mankind, returning only occasionally to my ve- 
getable plan. How convenient does it prove to be a 
rational animal, that knows how to find or invent a 
plausible pretext for whatever it has an inclination to 
do! 

I continued to live upon good terms with Keimer, 
who had not the smallest suspicion of my projected esia- 



DR. FRANKLIN. 49 

blishment. He still retained a portion of his former 
enthusiasm ; and being fond of argument we frequently 
disputed together. I was so much in the habit of usinj^ 
my Socratic method, and had so freq^uently puzzled him 
by my questions, which appeared at first very distant 
from the point in debate, yet nevertheless led to it by 
degrees, involving him in difficulties and contradic- 
tions from which he was unable to extricate himself, 
that he became at last ridiculously cautious, and would 
scarcely answer the most plain and familiar question 
without previously asking nve— What would you infer 
from that? Hence he formed' so high an opinion of my 
talents for refutation, that he seriously proposed to me to 
become his colleague in the establishment of a new re- 
ligious sect. He was to propagate the doctrine by preach- 
ing, and I to refute every opponent. 

When he explained to me his tenets, I found many 
absurdities, which I refused to admit, unless he would 
agree in turn to adopt some of my opinions. Keimer 
wore his beard long, because Moses had somewhere 
said, Thou shall not mar the corners of thy beard. He 
likewise observed the Sabbath ; and these were with 
him two very essential points, I disliked them both ; 
but I consented to adopt them, provided he would ab- 
stain from animal food. I dovibt, said he, whether my 
constitution will be able to support it. I assured hira 
on the contrary, that he would find himself the better 
for it. He was naturally a glutton, and I wished to 
amuse myself by starving him. He consented to make 
trial of this regimen, if I would bear him company ; 
and in reality we continued it for three months. A 
woman in the neighbourhood perpared and brought us 
our victuals, to whom I gave a list of forty dishes; in the 
composition of which there entered neither flesh nor 
fish. This fancy was the more agreeable to me, as it 
turned to good account ; for the whole expence of our 
living did not exceed for each eighteen-pence a week. 

I have since that period observed several Lents with 
the greatest strictness, and have suddenly returned again 
to my ordinary diet, without experiencing the smallest 

E 



50 THE LIFE OF 

inconvemence ; which has led me to regard as of no 
importance the advice commonly given of introducing 
gradually such alterations of regimen. 

I continued it cheerfully ; but poor Keimer suffered 
terribly. Tired of the project, he sighed for the flesh 
pots of Egypt. At length he ordered a roast pig, and 
invited me and two of our female acquaintance to dine 
with him ; but the pig being ready a little too soon, he 
could not resist the temptation, and eat it all up before 
we arrived. 

During the circumstances I have related, I had paid 
some attention to iVI,iss Read. I entertained for her 
the utmost esteem and affection ; and I had reason to 
believe that these sentiments were mutual. But we 
were both young, scarcely more than eighteen years of 
age ; and as I was on the point of undertaking a long 
voyage, her mother thought it prudent to prevent mat- 
ters being carried too far for the present, judging that 
if marriage was our object, there would be more pro- 
priety in it after my return, when, as at least I expected, 
I should be established in my business. Perhaps also 
she thought that my expectations were not so well found- 
ed as I imagined. 

My most intimate acquaintance at this time were 
Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, and James Ralph ; 
young men who were all fond of reading. The two 
first were clerks to Mr. Charles Brockdon, one of the 
principal attornies in the town, and the other clerk to 
a merchant. Watson was an upright pious and sensi- 
ble young man : the others were somewhat more loose 
in their principles of religion, particularly Ralph, 
whose faith, as well as that of Collins, I had contribut- 
ed to shake ; each of whom made me suffer a very 
adequate punishment. Osborne was sensible and sin- 
cere and affectionate in his friendships, but too much 
inclined to the critic in matters of literature. Ralph 
was ingenious and shrewd, genteel in his address, and 
extremely eloquent. I do not remember to have met 
with a more agreeable speaker. They were both ena- 



DR. FRANKLIN. 51 

moured of the muses, and had already evinced their pas- 
sion by some small poetical productions. 

It was a custom with tis to take a charming walk on 
Sundays, in the woods that border on the Schuylkill. 
Here we read together, and afterwards conversed on 
what we read. Ralph was disposed to give himself up 
entirely to poetry. He flattered himself that he should 
arrive at great eminence in Ihe art, and even acquire 
a fortune. The sublimest poets, he pretended, when 
they first began to write, committed as many faults as 
himself. Osborne endeavoured to dissuade him from 
it, by assuring him that he had no genius for poetry, 
and advised him to stick to the trade, in which he had 
been brought up. In the road of commerce, said he, 
you will be sure by diligence and assiduity, though 
you have no capital, of so far succeeding as to be em- 
ployed as a factor, and may thus, in time, acquire the 
means of setting up for yourself. I concurred in these 
sentiments, but at the same time expressed my appro- 
bation of amusing ourselves sometimes with poetry, 
with a view to improve our style. In consequence of 
this it was proposed, that, at our next meeting, each 
of us should bring a copy of verses of his own con>po- 
sition. Our object in this competition was to benefit 
each other by our mutual remarks, criticisms, and cor- 
rections ; and as style and expression were all we had 
in view, we excluded every idea of invention, by agree- 
ing that our task should be a version of the eigh. 
teenth Psalm, in which is described the descent of the 
Deity. 

The time of our meeting drew near, when Ralph 
called upon me, and told me his piece was ready. I 
informed him that I had been idle, and, not much lik- 
ing the task, had done nothing. He shewed me his 
piece, and asked what I thought of it. I expressed 
myself in terms of warm approbation; because it real- 
ly appeared to have considerable merit. He then said, 
Osborne will never acknowledge the smallest degree of 
excellence in any production of mine. Envy alone die- 



52 THE LIFE OF 

tates to him a thousand animadversions. Of you he h 
not so jealous. I wish therefore you would take the 
verses, and produce them as your own. I will pretend 
not to have had leisure to write any thing. We shall 
then see in what manner he will speak of them. I 
agreed to this little artifice, and immediately transcribed 
the verses to prevent all suspicion. 

We met. Watson's performance was the first that 
was read. It had some beauties, but many faults. We 
next read Osborne's, which was much better. Ralph 
did it justice, remarking a few imperfections, and ap- 
plauding such parts as were excellent. He had him- 
self nothing to show. It was now my turn. I made 
some difficulty ; seemed as if I wished to be excused ; 
pretended that I had had no time to make corrections, 
&c. No excuse, however, was admissible, and the 
piece must be produced. It was read and re-read. 
Watson and Osborne immediately resigned the palm, 
and united in applauding it. Ralph alone made a few 
remarks, and proposed some alterations ; but I defend- 
ed my text. Osborne agreed with me, and told Ralph 
he was no more able to criticise than he was able to 
write. ^ 

When Osborne was alone with me, he expressed 
himself still more strongly in favour of what he consi- 
dered as my performance. He pretended that he had 
put some restraint on himself before, apprehensive of 
my construing his commendation into flattery. But 
who would have supposed, said he, Franklin to be ca- 
pable of such a composition ? What painting, what 
energy, what fire ! He has surpassed the original. In 
his common conversation he appears not to have choice 
of words ; he hesitates, and is at a loss ; and yet, good 
God how he writes. 

At our next meeting Ralph discovered the trick we 
had played Osborne, who was rallied without mercy.^ 

By this adventure Ralph was fixed in his resolution 
of becomin?^ a poet. I left nothing unattempted to 
divert him from his purpose j but he persevered, till at 



t>U. VKANKLIK. / 53 

last the reading of Pope* effected his cure : he became, 
however a very tolerable prose writer. I shall speak 
more of him hereafter ; but as I shall probably have no 
farther occasion to mention the other two, I ought to 
observe here, that Watson died a few years after in my 
arms. He was greatly regretted ; for he was the best 
of our society. Osborne went to the islands, where he 
gained considerable reputation as a barrister, and was 
getting money ; but he died young. We had seriouly 
engaged, that whoever died first should return if pos- 
sible, and pay a friendly visit to the survivor, to give 
him an account of the other world ; but he has never 
fulfilled his engagement. 

The governor appeared to be fond of my company, 
and frequently invited me to his house. He always 
spoke of his intention of settling me in business, as a 
point that was decided. I was to take v^ith me letters 
of recommendation to a number of friends; and particu- 
larly a letter of credit, in order to obtain the necessary 
sum for the purchase of my press, types and paper. 
He appointed various times for me to come for these 
letters, which would certainly be ready ; and when I 
came, always put me off to another day. 

These successive delays continued till the vessel 
whose departure had been several times deferred, was on 
the point of setting sail : when I again went to Sir Wil- 
liam's house, to receive my letters, and take leave of 
him. I saw his secretary. Dr. IJard, who told me that 
the governor was extremely busy writing, but that he 
would be down at Newcastle before the vessel, and that 
the letters would be delivered to me there. 

Ralph, though he was married and had a child, de- 
termined to accompany me in this voyage. His object 

* Probably the Dunciad, where we find him thus immortalized 
by the author ; 



Silence ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls 
And makes night hideous ; answer him, ye owls ! 
}i 2 



54 The life of 

was supposed to be the establishing a correspondence 
with some mercantile houses, in order to sell goods by 
commission ; but I afterwards learned, that having rea* 
son to be dissatisfied with the parents of his wife, be 
proposed to himself to leave her on their hands and never 
return to America again. 

Having taken leave of my friends, and interchanged 
promises of fidelity with Miss Read, I quitted Phila- 
delphia. At Newcastle the vessel came to anchor. 
The governor was arrived, and 1 went to his lodgings. 
His secretary received me with great civility, told me 
on the part of the governor that he could not see me 
then, as he was engaged in affairs of the utmost impor- 
tance, but that he would send the letters on board, and 
that he wished me with all his heart, a good voyage 
and speedy return. I returned somewhat astonished to 
the ship, but still without entertaining the slightest 
suspicion. 

Mr. Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of Philadelphia, 
had taken a passage to England for himself and his 
son, and, in conjunction with Mr. Denham a quaker, 
and Messrs. Oniam and Russel, proprietors of a forge 
in Maryland, had agreed for the whole cabin, so that 
Ralph and I were obliged to take up our lodging with 
the crew. Being unknown to every body in the ship, 
we were looked upon as the common order of people : 
but Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was James, who was 
afterwards governor) left us at Newcasle, and return- 
ed to Philadelphia, where he was recalled, at a very 
great expence, to plead the cause of a vessel that had 
been seized ; and just as we were about to sail, colonel 
French came on board, and showed me many civilities. 
The passengers upon this paid me more attention, 
and I was invited together with my friend Ralph, to 
occupy the place in the cabin which the return of the 
Mr. Hamiltons had made vacant; an offer which we very 
readily accepted.. 

Having learned that the dispatches of the governor 
had been brought on board by colonel French, I asked 
the Ciptain for the letters that were to be entrusted 



DR. FRANKLIN. 5^5 

to my care. He told me that they were all put toge- 
ther in the bag, which he could not open at present ; 
but before we reached England, he would give me an 
opportunity of taking them out. I was satisfied with 
this answer, and we pursued our voyage. 

The company in the cabin were all very sociable, and 
we were perfectly well off as to provisions, as we had 
the advantage of the whole of Mr- Hamilton's who 
had laid in a very plentiful stock. During the passage 
Mr Denham contracted a friendship for me, which 
ended only with his life : in other respects the voyage 
was by no means an agreeable one, as we had much bad 
weather. 

When we arrived in the river, the captain was as 
good as his word, and allowed me to search the bag 
for the governor's letters. I could not find a single 
one with my name written on it, as committed to my 
care ; but I selected six or seven, which 1 judged from 
the direction to be those that were intended for me j 
particularly one to Mr. Basket the King's printer, and 
another to a stationer, who was the first person I called 
upon. I delivered him the letter as coming from go- 
vernor Keith. " I have no acquaintance (said he) 
" with any such person ;" and opening the letter, " Oh 
" it is from Riddlesden i" he exclaimed. ** I have 
" lately discovered him to be a very arrant knave, and 
*' I wish to have nothing to do either with him or his 
" letters." He instantly put the letter in my hand, 
turned upon his heel, and left me to serve some cus- 
tomers 

I was astonished at finding these letters were not 
from the governor. Reflecting, and putting circum- 
stances together, I then began to doubt his sincerity. 
I rejoined my friend Denham, and related the whole 
affair to him. He let me at once into Keith's cha- 
racter, told me there was not the least probability of 
his having written a single letter; that no one who 
knew him ever placed any reliance on him, and laughed 
at my credulity in supposing that the governor would 
give me a letter of credit, when he had no credit for 



56 THE LIFE OF 

himself. As I shewed some uneasiness respecting what 
step I should take, he advised me to try to get employ- 
ment in the house of some printer. You may there, 
said he, improve yourself in business, and you will be 
able to settle yourself the more advantageously when you 
return to America. 

We knew already, as well as the stationer, attorney 
Riddlesden to be a knave. He had nearly ruined the 
father of Miss Read, by drawing him in to be his se- 
curity. We learned from his letter that he was se- 
cretly carrying on an intrigue, in concert with the go- 
vernor, to the prejudice of Mr. Hamilton, who it was 
supposed would by this time be in Europe. Denham, 
who was Hamilton's friend, was of opinion that he 
ought to be made acquainted with it ; and in reality, 
the instant he arrived in England, which was very 
soon after, I waited on him, and, as much from good- 
will to him as from resentment against the governor, 
put the letter into his hands. He thanked me very 
sincerely, the information it contained being of conse- 
quence to him J and from that moment bestowed on me 
his friendship, which afterwards proved on many occa- 
sions serviceable to me. 

But what are we to think of a governor who could 
play so scurvy a trick, and thus grossly deceive a poor 
young lad, wholly destitute of experience ? It was a 
j^ractice with him. Wishing to please every body, and 
having little to bestow, he w^s lavish of promises. He 
was in other respects sensible and judicious, a very to- 
lerable writer, and a good governor for the people ; 
though not so for the proprietaries, whose instructions 
he frequently disregarded. Many of our best laws 
were his work, and established during his administra- 
tion. 

Ralph and I were inseparable companions. Wc 
took a lodging together at three^and- sixpence a week, 
which was as much as we could afford. He met with 
some relations in London, but they were poor, and not 
able to assist him. He now, for the first time, in- 
iorraed me of his intention to remain in England, and 



DR. FRANKLIN. 5f 

that he had no thoughts of ever returning to Philadel- 
phia. He was totally without money ; the little he had 
been able to raise having barely sufficed for his passage. 
I had still fifteen pistoles remaining ? and to me he had 
from time to time recourse, while he tried to get em- 
ployment. 

At first believing himself possessed of talents for the 
stage he thought of turning actor; but Wilkes, to 
whom he applied, frankly advised him to renounce the 
idea, as it was impossible to succeed. He next pro- 
posed to Roberts, a bookseller in Paternoster-row, to 
write a weekly paper in the manner of the Spectator, 
upon terms, to which Roberts would not listen. Last- 
ly he endeavoured to procure employment as a copyist, 
and applied to the lawyers and stationers about the Tem- 
ple ; but he could find no vacancy. 

As to myself I immediately got engaged at Palmer's, 
at that time a noted printer in Bartholomew Close, 
with whom I continued nearly a year, I applied very 
assiduously to my work ; but I expended wiih Ralph 
almost all that I earned. Plays and other places of 
amusement which we frequented together, having 
exausted my pistoles, we lived after this from hand 
to mouth. He appeared to have entirely forgotten 
his wife and child, as I also by degrees forgot my 
engagements with Miss Read, to whom I never 
wrote more than one letter, and that merely to 
inform her that I was not likely to return soon. 
This was another grand error of my life, which I 
should be desirous of correctin^where i to begin my 
career again. 

I was employed at Palmer's on the second edition of 
Woolaston*s Religion of Nature. Some of his argu- 
ments appearing to me not to be well founded, I wrote 
a small metaphysical treatise, in which I animadverted 
on those passages. It was entitled a Dissertation on 
Liberty and necessity, Pleasure and Pain. I dedica- 
ted it to my friend Ralph, and printed a small number 
of copies. Palmer upon this treated me with more con- 
sideration, and regarded me as a young man of talents; 



68 THE LIFE OF 

though he seriously took me to task for the principles 
of my pamphlet, which he looked upon as abominable. 
The printing of this book was another error of my 
life. 

While I lodged in Little Britain I formed acquain- 
tance with a bookseller of the name of Wilcox, whose 
shop was next door to me. Circulating libraries were 
not then in use. He had an immense collection of 
books of all sorts. We agreed that, for a reasonable 
retribution, of which I have now forgotten the price, 
I should have free access to his library, and take what 
books I pleased, which I was to return when I had read 
them. I considered this agreement as a very great ad- 
vantage ; and I derived from it as much benefit as was 
in my power. 

My pamphlet falling into the hand of a surgeon, of 
the name of Lyons, author, of a book entitled Infalli- 
bility of Human Judgment, was the occasion of a con- 
siderable intimacy between us. He expressed great 
esteem for me, came frequently to see me, in order to 
converse upon metaphysical subjects, and introduced 
me to Dr. Mandeville, author of the Fable of Bees, 
who had instituted a club at a tavern in Cheapside, of 
which he was the soul : he was a facetious and very 
amusing character. He also introduced me, at Bas- 
ton's coffee-house, to Dr. Pemberton who promised to 
give me an opportunity of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, 
which I very ardently desired ; but he never kept his 
word. ; 

I had brought some curiosities with me from Ame- 
rica ; the principle of which was a purse made of as- 
bestos, which fire only purifies. Sir Hans Slone hear- 
ing of it, called upon me, and invited me to his house 
in Bloomsbury square, where, after showing me every 
thing that was curious, he prevailed on me to add this 
piece to his collection ; for which he paid me very hand- 
somely. 

There lodged in the same house with us a young 
woman, a milliner, who had a shop by the side of the 
exchange. Lively and sensible, and having received 



DR. FRANKLIN. 59 

an education somewhat above her rank, her conversa- 
tion was very agreeable. Ralph read plays to her every 
evening. They became intimate. She took another 
lodging, and he followed her. They lived for some 
time together ; but Ralph being without employm.ent, 
she having a child, and the profits of her business 
not sufficing for the maintenance of three, he resolv- 
ed to quit London and try a country school. This 
was a plan in which he thought himself likely to suc- 
ceed, as he wrote a fine hand and was versed in arith- 
metic and accounts. But considering the office as be- 
neath him, and expecting some day to make a better 
figure in the world, when he should be ashamed of Its 
being known that he had exercised a profession so little 
honourable, he changed his name and did me the ho- 
nour of assuming mine. He wrote to me soon after 
his departure, informing me that he was settled at a 
small village in Berkshire. In his letter he recom- 
mended Mrs. T***, the milliner to my care, and request- 
ed an answer, directed to Mr. Franklin, schoolmaster 
atN**». 

He continued to write to me frequently, sending me 
large fragments of an epic poem he was composing, and 
which he requested me to criticise and correct. I did 
so, but not without endeavouring to prevail on him to 
renounce this pursuit. Young had just published one 
of his Satires. I copied and sent him a great part of 
it ; in which the author demonstrates the folly of culti- 
vating the Muses, from the hope, by their instrumen- 
tality of rising in the world. It was all to no purpose; 
paper after paper of his poem continued to arrive every 
post. 

Meanwhile Mrs T*** having lost, on his account, 
both her friends and her business, was frequently in 
distress. In this dilemma she had recourse to me ; and 
to extricate her from her difficulties, I lent her all the 
money I could spare. I felt a little too much fond- 
ness for her: Having at that time no ties of religion, 
and taking advantage of her necessitous situation, I 
attempted liberties (another error of my life) which she 



60 Tfli; iiwm ow 

repelled with becoming indignation. She informed 
Ralph of my conduct ; and the affair occasioned a 
breach between us. When he returned to London, he 
gave me to understand ihat he considered all the obli- 
gations he owed me as annihilated by this proceeding ; 
whence I concluded that I was never to expect the 
payment of what money I had lent him, or advanced on 
his account. I was the less afflicted at this, as he was 
unable to pay me ; and as, by loosing his friendship, I 
was relieved at the same time from a very heavy bur- 
den. 

I now began to think of laying by some money. The 
printing house of Watt's near Lincoln's Inn Fields, be- 
ing a still more considerable one than that in which I 
worked, it was probable I might find it more advantage- 
ous to be employed there. I offered myself, and was 
accepted ; and in this house I continued during the re- 
mainder of my stay in London. 

On my entrance I worked at first as a pressman, con- 
ceiving that I had need of bodily exercise, to which I 
had been accustomed in America, where the printers 
work alternately as compositors and at the press. I 
drank nothing but water. The other workmen, to the 
number of about fifty, were great drinkers of beer. I 
carried occasionally a large form of letters in each hand, 
up and down stairs, while the rest employed both hands 
to carry one. They were surprised to see, by this and 
many other examples, that the ^imerican Aquatic^ as 
they used to call me, was stronger than those who drank 
porter. The beer boy had sufficient employment dur- 
ing the whole day in serving that house alone. My 
fellow-pressman drank every day a pint of beer before 
breakfast, a pint with bread and cheese for breakfast, 
one between breakfast and dinner, one at dinner, one 
again at about six o'clock in the afternoon, and another 
after he had finished his day's work. This custom ap- 
peared tome abominable ; but he had need, he said, of 
all this beer, in order to acquire strength to work. 

I endeavoured to convince him that bodily strength 
furnished by the beer, could only be in proportion to 



' DR. FRANKLIN. 61 

ibc solid part of the barley dissolved in the water of 
which the beer was composed ; that there was a 
larger portion of flour in a penny loaf, and that con- 
sequently if he eat this loaf and drank a pint of wa- 
ter with it, he would derive more strength from it 
than from a pint of beer. This reasoning, however, 
did not prevent him from drinking his accustomed 
quantity of beer, and paying every Saturday night 
a score of four or five shillings a week for this 
cursed beverage ; an expense from which I was 
wholly exempt. Thus do these poor devils continue 
all their lives in a state of voluntary wretchedness and 
poverty. 

At the end of a few weeks, Watts having occasion 
for me above stairs as a composi or, I quitted the press. 
The compositors demanded of me garnish money 
afresh. This I considered as an imposition, having 
already paid below. The master was of the same opi- 
nion, and desired me not to comply. I thus remain- 
ed two or three weeks out of the fraternity. I was 
consequently looked upon as excommunicated ; and 
whenever I was absent, no little tricl^ that malice could 
suggest was left unpracticed upon me. I found my 
letters mixed, my pages transposed, my matter bro- 
ken, &c. &c. all which was attributed to the spirit that 
haunted the chapel,* and tormented those who were 
not regularly admitted. I was at last obliged to sub- 
mit to pay notwithstanding the protection of the mas- 
ter ; convinced of the folly of not keeping up a good 
understanding with those among whom we are destined 
to live. 

After this I lived in the utmost harmony with my 
fellow-labourers, and soon acquired considerable influ- 
ence among them. I proposed some alterations in 
the laws of the chapel, which I carried without op- 
position. My example prevailed with several of them 
to renounce their abominable practice of bread and 

• Printing offices in general are thus denominated by the work- 
men ; the spirit they call by the name of Ralph. 

F 



62 THE LIFE OF 

cheese with beer ; and they procured, like me, from a 
neighbouring house, a good bason ot warm griiel, in 
which was a small slice of butter, with toasted bread and 
nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, which did 
not cost more than a pint of bee?, namely, three half- 
pence, and at the same time preserved the head clearer. 
Those who continued to gorge themselves with beer, 
often lost their credit with the publican, from neglecting 
to pay their score. They had then recourse to me, to 
become security for them ; thdr lights as they used to 
call it, being out, I attended at the pay-table every 
Saturday evening, to take up the little sum of money 
which I had made myself answerable for ; and which 
sometimes amounted to nearly thirty shillings a week. 
This circumstance, added to my reputation of being 
a tolerable good gabber^ or, in other words, skilful in 
the art of burlesque, kept up my importance in the 
chapel. I had besides recommended myself to the es- 
teem of the master by my assiduous application to bu- 
siness, never observing Saint Monday. My extraordi- 
nary quickness in composing always procured me such 
work as was most urgent, and which is commonly best 
paid ; and thus my time passed away in a very pleasant 
manner. 

My lodging in Little Britain being too far from the 
printing house, I took another in Duke street, opposite 
the Roman chapel. It was at the back of an Italian 
ware-house. The house was kept by a widow, who had 
a daughter, a servant, and a shop boy ; but the latter 
slept out of the house. After sending to the people 
with whom I had lodged in Little Britain, to inquire 
into my character, she agreed to take me in at the same 
price, three and sixpence a week ; contenting herself, 
she said, with so little, because of the security she 
would derive, as they were all women, from having a 
man lodge in the house. 

She was a woman rather advanced in life, the daughter 
of a clergyman. She had been educated a Protestant ; 
but her husband, whose memory she highly revered, 
had conv:erted her to the Catholic religion. She haU 



DH. FRANKLl>f. 63 

lived in habits of intimacy with persons of distinction ; 
of whom she knew various anecdotes as far back as the 
time of Charles II. Being subject to fits of the gout 
which often confined her to her room, she was some- 
times disposed to see company. Iier*s was so amusing 
to me that I was glad to pass the evening with her as 
often as she desired it. Our supper consisted only of 
half an anchovy a-piece, upon a slice of bread and but- 
ter, with half a pint of ale between us. But the enter- 
tainment was in her conversation. 

The early hours I kept, and the little trouble I occa- 
sioned in the family, made her loath to part with me ; 
and when I mentioned another lodging I had found 
nearer the printing house, at two shillings a week, which 
fell in with my plan of saving, she persuaded me to give 
it up, making herself an abatement of two shillings ; 
and thus I continued to lodge with her, during the re- 
mainder of my abode in London,at eighteen pence a week. 

In the garret of the house there lived, in the most 
retired manner, a lady seventy years of age, of whom I 
received the following account from my landlady. She 
was a Roman Catholic. In her early years she had 
been sent to the continent, and entered a convent with 
the design of becoming a nun ; but the climate not 
agreeing with her constitution, she was obliged to re- 
turn to England, where, as there was no monasteries, 
she made a vow to lead a monastic life, in as rigid a 
manner as circumstances would permit. She accord- 
ingly disposed of all her property, to be applied to cha- 
ritable uses, reserving to herself only twelve pounds a 
year ; and of this small pittance she gave a part to the 
poor, living on water-gruel, and never making use of 
fire but to boil it. She had lived in this garret a great 
many years, without paying any rent to the successive 
Catholic inhabitants that had kept the house; who indeed 
considered her abode with them as a blessing. A pries^t 
came every day to confess her. *' I have asked her,'* 
said my landlady, '» how, living as she did, she could find 
so much employment for a confessor ?" To which she 
ans-wered, that it was impossible to avoid vain thoughts. 



64 THE LIFE OF 

I was once permitted to visit her. She was cheerful 
and polite, and h«r conversation agreeable. Her apart- 
ment was neat; but the whole furniture consisted of a 
mattrass, a table, on which were a crucifix and book, a 
chair, which she gave me to sit on, and over the mantle- 
piece a picture of St. Veronica, displaying her hanker- 
chief, on which was seen the miraculous impression of 
the face of Christ, which she explained to me with great 
gravity. Her countenance was pale, but she had ne- 
ver experienced sickness; and I may adduce her as ano- 
ther proof how little is sufficient to maintain life and 
health. 

At tiie printing house I contracted an intimacy with 
a sensible young man of the name of Wygate, who, as 
his parents were in good circumstances, had received a 
better education than is common among printers. He 
was a tolerable Latin scholar, spoke French fluently and 
was fond of reading. I taught him, as well as a friend 
of his, to swim, by taking them twice only into the ri- 
ver ; after which they stood in need of no further assist- 
ance. We one day made a party to ^o by water to 
Chelsea, in order to see the College, and don Soltero's 
curiosities. On our return, at the request of the com- 
pany, whose curiosity Wygate had excited, I undressed 
myself and leaped into the river. I swam from near 
Chelsea the whole way to Blackfriars bridge, exhibiting 
during my course, a variety of feats of activity and ad- 
dress, both upon the surface of the water, as well as un- 
der it. This sight occasioned much astonishment and 
pleasure to those to whom it was nev/. In my youth I 
took great delight in this exercise. I knew, and could 
execute, all the evolutions and positions of Thevenot ; 
and I added to them some of my own invention, in 
which I endeavoured to unite gracefulness and utility. 
I took a pleasure in displaying them ail on this occa- 
sion, and was highly flattered with the admiration they 
(Qxcited. 

Wygate besides his being desirous of perfecting him- 
self in this art Vv'as the more attached to me from there 
being, in other repects, a conformity in our tastes and 



1 



dh. franklin. 65 

studies. He at lenc^th proposed to me to make the 
tour of Europe with him, maintaining^ ourselves at the 
same time by working at our profession. I was on 
the point of consenting, when I mentioned itto my friend 
Denham, with whom I was glad to pass an hour when- 
ever I had leisure. He dissuaded me from the project, 
and advised me to return to Philadelphia, which he was 
about to do himself. 1 must relate in this place a trait 
of this worthy man*s character. 

He had formerly been in business at Bristol, but 
failing, he compounded with his creditors, and depart- 
ed for America, where, by assiduous application as a 
merchant, he acquired in a few years a very considera- 
ble fortune. Returning to England in the same ves- 
sel with myself, a's I have related above, he invited all 
his old creditors to a feast. When assembled, he thank- 
ed them for the readiness with which they had receiv- 
ed his small composition ; and, while they expected 
nothing more than a simple entertainment, each found 
under his plate when it came to be removed, a 
draft upon a banker for the residue of his debt with 
interest. 

He told me it was his intention to carry back with 
him to Philadelphia a great quantity of goods, in or- 
dsr to open a store ; and he offered to take me with 
him in the capacity of a clerk, to keep his books, in 
which he would instruct me, copy letters, and superin- 
tend the store. He added, that, as soon as I had ac- 
quired a knowledge of mercantile transactions, he 
would improve my situation, by sending me with a 
cargo of corn and flour to the American Islands, and by- 
procuring me other lucrative commissions : so that with 
good management and oeconomy, I might in time begin 
business with advantage for myself. 

I relished these proposals. London began to tire 
me ; the agreeable hours I had passed at Philadelphia 
presented themselves to my mind, and I wished to see 
them revive. I consequently engaged myself to Mr. 
Denham, at a salary of fifty pounds a year. This was 
Indeed less than I earned as a compositor, but then I 
F2 



&6 THE LirEi OF 

had a much fairer prospect. I took leave, therefore, as I 
believed forever, of printing, and gave myself up en- 
tirely to my new occupation, spending all my time ei- 
ther in going from house to house with Mr. Denham to 
purchase goods, or in packing them up, or in expedit- 
ing the workmen, &c. &c. When every thing however 
was o.n board, I had at last a few days leisure. 

During this interval, I was one day sent for by a 
gentleman, whom I knew only by name. It was Sir 
William Wyndham. I went to his house. He had 
by some means heard of my performances between 
Chelsea and Blackfriars, and that I had taught the art 
of swimming to Wygate and another young man in the 
course of a few hours. His two sons were on the 
point of setting out on their travels ; he was desirous 
that they should previously learn to swim, and offered 
me a very liberal reward if I would undertake to in- 
struct them. They were not yet arrived in town, and 
the stay I should make myself was uncertain ; I could 
not therefore accept his proposal. I was led however 
to suppose from this incident, that if I had wished to re- 
main in London and open a swimming-school I should 
perhaps have gained a great deal of money. This idea 
struck me so forcibly, that, had the oifer been made 
sooner, I should have dismissed the thought of return- 
ing as yet to America. Some years after, you and I 
had a more important business to settle with one of the 
sons of Sir VVilliam Wyndham, then Lord Egremont. 
But let us not anticipate events. 

I thus passed about eighteen months in London, 
working almost without intermission at my trade, a- 
voiding all expence on my own account, except going 
tiow and then to the play and purchasing a few books. 
JBut my friend Ralph kept me poor. He owed me 
about twenty-seven pounds, which was so much mo- 
ney lost ; and when considered as taken from my lit- 
tle savings, was a very great sum. I had notwith- 
standing this a regard for him, as he possessed many 
amiable qualities. But though I had done nothing for 



DR. JPRANKLIK. £? 

myself in point of fortune, I had increased my stock of 
knowledge, either by the many excellent books I had 
read; or the conversation of learned and literary persons 
with whom I was acquainted. 

We sailed from Gravesend the 23d of July 1726. 
For the incidents of my voyage I refer you to my Jour- 
nal where you will fiud all the circumstances minutely 
i-elated. We landed at Philadelphia on the 1 1th of the 
following October. 

Keith had been deprived of his office of governor, 
and was succeeded by Major Gordon, I met him walk- 
ing in the streets as a private individual. He appeared 
a little ashamed at seeing me, but passed on without 
saying any thing. 

I should have been equally ashamed myself at meet- 
ing Miss Read, had not her family, justly despairing 
of my return after reading my letter, advised her to 
give me up, and marry a potter, of the name of Ro- 
gers ; to which she consented : but he never made her 
happy, and she soon separated from him, refusing to 
cohabit with him, or even bear his name, on account 
of a report which prevailed, of his having another wife, 
His skill in his profession had seduced Miss Read's pa- 
rents; but he was as bad a subject as he was excellent 
as a workman. He involved himself in debt, and fled, 
in the year 1727 or 1728, to the West Indies where he 
died. 

During my absence Keimer had taken a more con- 
siderable house, in which he kept a shop, that was well 
supplied with paper, and various other articles. He 
had procured some new types, and a number of work- 
men ; among whom, however there was not one who 
was good for any thing : and he appeared not to w 
business. 

Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water-stree 
where we exhibited our commodities. I applied my- 
self closely, studied accounts, and became in a short 
time very expert in trade. We lodged and eat together. 
He was sincerely attached to me, and acted towards 
me as if he had been my father. On my side, I re- 






68 THE LIFE OP 

spected and loved him. My situation was happy ; but it 
was a happiness of no lon^ duration. 

Early in February 1727, when I entered into tny 
twenty-second year* we were both taken ill. I was 
attacked with a pleurisy, which had nearly carried me 
off; I suffered terribly, and considered it as all over 
with me. I felt indeed a sort of disappointment when 
I found myself likely to recover, and ref^retted that I 
had still to experience, soooer or later, the same dis- 
agreeable scene again. 

I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham's disorder ; 
but it was a tedious one, and he at last sunk under it. 
He left me a small legacy in his will, as a testimony 
of his friendship ; and I was once more abandoned to 
myself in the wide world, the ware-house being confi- 
ded to the care of the testamentary executor, who dis- 
missed me. 

My brother-in-law, Holmes^ who happened to be at 
Philadelphia, advised me to return to my former pro- 
fession ; and Keimer offered me a very considerable sa- 
lary if I would undertake the management of his print- 
ing-office, that he might devote himself entirely to the 
superintendance of his shop. His wife and relations in 
London had given me a bad character of him ; and 1 was 
loath for the present, to have any concern with him. I 
endeavoured to get employment as a clerk to a mer- 
chant ; but not readily finding a situation, I was induc- 
ed to accept Keimer's proposal. 

The following were the persons I found in his print- 
ing-house : 

Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about thirty-five 
years of age. He had been brought up to husbandry, was 
honest, sensible, had some experience, and was fond of 
reading ; but too much addicted to drinking. 

Stephen Potts, a young rustic, just broke from school, 
and of rustic education, with endowments rather above 
the common order, and a competent portion of under- 
standing and gaiety ; but a little idle. Keimer had en- 
gaged these two at very low wages, which he had pro- 
iQised to raise every three monihs a shilling a week> 



DR. FRANKLIN. 69 

provided their improvement in the typographical art 
should merit it. This future increase of wages was 
the bait he made use of to ensnare them. Meredith 
was to work at the press, and Potts^o bind books, which 
he had engaged to teach them, though he* understood 
neither himself. 

John Savage, an Irishman, who had been brought up 
to no trade, and whose service, for a period of four years, 
Keimer had purchased of the captain of a ship. He 
was also to be a pressman. 

George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time he 
had in like manner bought for four years, intending 
him for a compositor. I shall speak more of him pre- 
sently. 

Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who was appren- 
ticed to him. 

I soon perceived that Keimer's intention, in engag- 
ing me at a price so much above what he was accus- 
tomed to give, was, that I might form all these raw 
journeymen and apprentices, who scarcely cost him any 
thing, and who, being indentured, would as soon as they 
should be sufficiently instructed, enable him to do 
without me. I nevertheless adhered to my agreement. 
I put the office in order, which was in the utmost con?- 
fusion, and brought his people by degrees, to pay atten- 
tion to their work, and to execute it in a more masterly 
manner. 

It was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the con- 
dition of a purchased servant. He was not more than 
eighteen years of age ; and the following are the par- 
ticulars he gave me of himself. Born at Gloucester, 
he had been educated at a grammar school, and had 
distinguished himself among the scholars by his supe- 
rior style of acting, when they represented dramatic 
performances. 

He was member of a literary club in the town ; aild 
some pieces of his composition, in prose as well as in 
verse, had been inserted in the Gloucester papers. From 
hence he was sent to Oxford, where he remained about 
a year: but he was not contented, and wished above 



70 THE LIFE OF 

all things to see London, and become an actor. At 
length having received fifteen guineas to pay his quar- 
ter's board, he decamped with the money from Oxford, 
hid his gown in a hedge, and travelled to London. 
There, having no friend to direct liim, he fell into bad 
company, soon squandered his fifteen guineas, could find 
mo way of being introduced to the actors, became 
contemptible, pawned his clothes, and was in want 
of bread. As he was walking along the streets, al- 
most famished with hunger, and not knowing what to do, 
a recruiting bill was put into his hand, which offered an 
Immediate treat and bounty-money to whoever was 
disposed to serve in America. He instantly repaired 
to the house of rendezvous, inlisted himself, was put 
on board a ship and conveyed to America, without 
ever writing to inform his parents what was become 
of him. His mental vivacity, and good natural dis- 
position, made him an excellent companion ; but he 
Avas indolent, thoughtless, and to the last degree im* 
prudent. 

John, the Irishman, soon ran away. I began to live 
very agreeably with the rest. They respected me, and 
the more so as they found Keimcr incapable of instruct- 
ing them, and as they learned something from me every 
day. We never worked on a Saturday, it being Kci- 
iner*s sabbath j so that I had two days a week for 
reading. 

I increased my acquaintance with persons of know- 
ledge and information in the town. Keimer himself 
treated me with great civility, and apparent esteem ; 
^nd I had nothing to give me uneasiness but my debt to 
Vernon, which I was unable to pay, my savings as yet 
being very little. He had the goodness, however, not 
to ask me for the money. 

Our press was frequently in want of the necessary 
quantity of letter ; and there was no such trade as that 
of letter-founder in America. I had seen the practice 
of this art at the house of James, in London ; but had 
at the same time paid it very little attention. I how- 
ever contrived to fabricate a mould. I nasvde use of 



DR. FRANKLIN, 71 

such letters as we had for punches, founded new letters 
of lead in matrices of clay, and thus supplied in a 
tolerable manner, the wants that were most pressing. 

I also, upon occasion, engraved various ornaments, 
made ink, gave an eye to the shop ; in short, I was in 
every respect the /actotU7n. But useful as I made my- 
self, 1 perceived that my services became every day of 
Jess importance, in proportion as the other men im- 
proved ; and when Keimerpaid me my second quarter*s 
wages, he gave me to understand that they were too 
heavy, and that he thought I ought to make an abate- 
ment. He became by degrees less civil, and assumed 
more the tone of master. He frequently found fault, was 
difficult to please, and seemed always on the point of 
coming to an open quarrel with me. 

I continued, however, to bear it patiently, conceiv- 
ing that his ill humour was partly occasioned by the 
derangement and embarrassment of his affairs. At last 
a slight incident broke our connection. Hearing a 
noise in the neighbourhood, I put my head out of the 
window to see what was the matter. Keimer being in 
the street observed me, and in a loud and angry tone 
told me to mind my work ; adding some reproachful 
words, which piqued me the more as they were uttered 
in the street, and the neighbours, whom the same noise 
had attracted to the windows, were witnesses of the 
manner in which I was treated. He immediately 
came up to the printing-room, and continued to ex- 
claim against me. The quarrel became warm on both 
sides, and he gave me notice to quit him at the expi- 
ration of three months, as had been agreed between 
us ; regretting that he was obliged to give me so long 
a term. I told him that his regret was superfluous, as 
I was ready to quit him instantly ; I took my hat and 
came out of the house, begging Meredith to take care 
of some things which I left, and bring them to my 
lodgings. 

Meredith eame to me in the evening. VVe talk' 
ed for some time upon the quarrel that had taken place ^ 



72 THE LIFE OF 

He had conceived a great veneration for me, and was 
sorry I should quit the house while he remained in it. 
He dissuaded me from returning; to my native country, 
as I began to think of doing. He reminded me that 
Keimer owed more than he possessed ; that his credi- 
tors began to be alarmed ; that he kept his shop in a 
wretched state, often selling things at prime cost for 
the sake of ready money, and continually giving cre- 
dit without keeping any accounts ; that of consequence 
he must very soon fail, which would occasion a vacancy 
from which I might derive advantage. I objected 
my want of money. Upon which he informed me 
that his father had a very high opinion of me, and, 
from a conversation that had passed between them, he 
was sure that he would advance whatever might be ne- 
cessary to establish us, if I was willing to enter into 
partnership with him. " My time with Keimer," add- 
ed he, " will be at an end next spring. In the mean- 
time we may send to London for our press and types, 
I know that I am no workman ; but if you agree to 
the proposal, your skill in the business will be balanced 
by the capital I will furnish, and we will share the pro- 
fits equally.'* His proposal was reasonable, and 1 fell 
in with it. His father who was then in the town, 
approved of it. He knew that I had some ascendency 
over his son, as I had been able to prevail on him to 
abstain a long time from drinking brandy; and he hoped, 
that wheft more closely connected with him, I should 
cure him entirely of this unfortunate habit. 

I gave the father a list of what would be necessa- 
ry to import from London. He took it to a mer- 
chant, and the order was given. We agreed to keep 
the secret till the arrival of the materials, and I was 
in the mean time to procure work if possible, in ano- 
ther printing-house ; but there was no place vacant, 
and I remained idle. After some days, Keimer hav- 
ing the expectation of being employed to print some 
New Jersey money-bills, that would require types and 
engravings which I only could furnish, and fearful that 
Bradford by engaging me, might deprive him of the 



DR. FRANKLIN. 73 

undertaking, sent me a very civil message, telling me 
that old friends ought not to be disunited on account of 
a few words, which were the effect only of a momenta- 
ry passion, and invited me to return to him. Meredith 
persuaded me to comply with ihe invitation, particularly 
as it would afford him more opportunities of improving 
himself in the business by means of my instructions. I 
did so, and we lived upon better terms than before our 
separation. 

He obtained the New-Jersey business : and in order 
to execute it, I constructed a copper-plate printing- 
press ; the first that had been seen in the country. I 
engraved various ornaments and vignettes for the bills ; 
and we repaired to Burlington together, where 1 exe- 
cuted the whole to the general satisfaction ; and he 
received a sum of money for this work, which enabled 
him to keep his head above water for a considerable time 
longer. 

At Burlington I formed acquaintance with the prin- 
cipal personages of the province ; many of whom were 
commissioned by the assembly to superintend the press, 
and to see that no more bills were printed than the 
law had prescribed. Accordingly they were constant- 
ly with us, each in his turn ; and he that came com- 
monly brought with him a friend or two to bear him 
company. My mind was more cultivated by reading 
than Keimer*s; and it was for this reason probably, 
that they set more value on my conversation. They 
took me to their houses, introduced me to their friends, 
and treated me with the greatest civility ; while Kei- 
mer, though master, saw himself a little neglected. 
He was, in fact, a strange animal, ignorant of the com- 
mon modes of life, apt to oppose with rudeness general- 
ly received opinions, an enthusiast in certain points of 
religion, disgustingly unclean in his person, and a little 
knavish withal. 

We remained there nearly three months ; and at 
the expiration of this period I could include in the 
list of my friends, Judge Allen, Samuel Bustil, secre- 
tary of the province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, 

G 



V4 THE LIFE OF 

several of the Smiths, all members of the assemblvj 
and Isaac Deacon, inspector-general. The last was a 
shrewd and subtle old man. He told me, that, when a 
boy, his first employment had been that of carrying 
clay to brick-makers ? that he did not learn to write 
till he was some what advanced in life ; that he was 
afterwards employed as an underling to a surveyor, 
who taught him his trade, and that by industry 
he had at last acquired a competent fortune. " I fore- 
see," said he one day to me, *' that you will soon sup- 
plant this man.'* speaking of Keimer, " and get a for- 
tune in the business at Philadelphia." He was to- 
tally ignorant at the time of my intention of establish- 
ing myself there, or any where elbe. These friends 
were very serviceable to me in the end, as was I also 
Upon occasion to some of them ; and they have continued 
ever since their esteem for me. 

Before I relate the particulars of my entrance into bu- 
siness, it may be proper to inform you what was at that 
time the state of my mind as to moral principles, that 
you may see the degree of influence they had upon the 
subsequent events of my life. 

My parents had given me betimes religious impres- 
sions ; and I received from my infancy a pious educa- 
tion in the principles of Galvanism. But scarcely was 
I arrived at fifteen years of age, when, after having 
doubted in turn of different tenets, according as I 
found them combated in the different books that I r.ead, 
I began to doubt of revelation itself. Some volumes 
against deism fell into my hands. They were said to 
be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lecture. 
It happened that they produced on me an effect pre- 
cisely the reverse of what was intended by the writers ; 
for the arguments of the deists, which were cited in 
order to be refuted, appeared to me much more forci- 
ble than the refutation itself. In a word, I jBoon be- 
came a perfect deist. My arguments perverted some 
other young persons; particularly Collins and Ralph. 
But in the sequel, when I recollected that they had 
both used me extremely ill, without the smallest re- 



DR. FRANKLIN. 75 

morse ; when I considered the behaviour of Keith, 
another freethinker, and my own conduct towards Ver- 
non and Miss Reed, which at times gave me much 
uneasiness, I was led to suspect that tliis doctrine, 
though it might be true, was not very useful. I be- 
gan to entertain a less favourable opinion of my London 
pamphlet, to which I had prefixed, as a motto, the fol- 
lowing lines of Dryden ; 

Whatever is, is right ; tho* purblind man, 
Sees but part of the chain, the nearest link. 
His eyes nut carrying to the equal beam 
Thai' poises all above. 

and of which the object was to prove, from the attri- 
butes of God, his goodness, wisdom, and power, that 
there could b^no such thing as evil in the world ; that 
vice and virtue did not in reality exist and were no- 
thing more than vain distinctions. I no longer re- 
garded it as so blameless a work as I had formerly ima- 
gined ; ^nd I suspected that some error must have im- 
perceptibly glided into my argument, as all the 
inferences I had drawn from it had been affected, as fre- 
quently happens, in metaphysical reasonings. In a 
word, I was at last convinced that truth, probity, and 
sincerity, in transactions between man and man, were of 
the utmost importance to the happiness of life: and I re- 
solved from that moment, and wrote the resolution in 
my journal, to practice ihera as long as I lived. 

Revelation indeed, as such, had no influence on 
my mind ; but I was of opinion that, though certain 
actions could not be bad merely because revelation pro- 
hibited them, or good because it enjoined them, yet 
it was probable that those actioiis were prohibited be- 
cause they were bad for us, or enjoined because ad- 
vantageous in their nature, all things considered. The 
persuasion, divine IVovidence, or some guardian angel, 
and perhaps concurrence of favourable circumstances 
co-operating, preserved me from all immorality, or gross 
and voLantary injustice, to which my want of religion 



ys THE LIFE ar 

calculated to expose me, in the danj^erous period of 
youih and in the hazardous situations in which I 
sometimes found myself, among strangers, and at a dis- 
tance from the eye and admonitions of my father. I 
may say -voluntary^ because the errors into which I hud 
fallen, had been in a manner the forced result either of 
my own inexperience, or the dishonesty of others. 
Thus, before I entered on my new career, I had imbibed 
solid principles, and a character of probity. I knew their 
value ; I made solemn engagements with myself never 
to depart from them. 

I had not long returned from Burlington before ohp 
printing materials arrived from London. I settled my 
accounts with Keimer, and quitted him, with his own 
consent, before he had any knowledge of our plan. 
We found a house to let near the market. We took 
it ; and to render the rent less burtWnsome (it was 
then twenty-four pounds a-year, but I have since 
known it to let for seventy,) we admitted Thomas 
Godfry, a glazier, with his family, who eased us of 
a considerable part of it ; and with him we ^reed to 
board. 

We had no sooner unpacked our letter, and put our 
press in order, than a person of my acquaintance 
George House, brought us a countryman, whom he 
had met in the streets enquiring for a printer. Our 
money was almost exhausted by the number of things 
we had been obliged to procure. The five shillings 
we received from this countryman, the first fruit of our 
earnings, coming so seasonably, gave me more plea- 
sure than any sum I have since gained ; and the recol- 
lection of the gratitude I felt on this occasion to George 
House, has rendered me often more disposed, than per- 
haps I should otherwise have been, to encourage young 
beginners in trade. 

There are in every country morose beings, who are 
always prognosticating ruin. There was one of this 
stamp in Philadelphiu. He was a man of fortune, de- 
clined in years, had an air of wisdom, and a very grave 
manner of speaking. His name was Samuel Mickle. 



DR. FRANKLIN. 77 

I knew him not ; but he stopped one day at my door, 
and asked me if I was the young man who had lately sat 
up a new printing house. On my answering in the 
affirmative, he said that he was very sorry for me, as it 
was an expensive undertaking, and the money that had 
been laid out upon it would be lost, Philadelphia bein^ 
a place falling into decay ; its inhabitants having all 
or nearly all of them, been obliged to call together 
their creditors. That he knew from undoubted fact, 
the circumstances which might lead us to suppose the 
contrary, such as new buildings and the advanced price 
of rent, to be deceitful appearances, which in real- 
ity contributed to hasten the general ruin ; and he gave 
me so long a detail of misfortunes, actually existing, 
or which were soon to take place, that he left me almost 
in a state of despair. Had I koown this man before I 
entered into trade, I should doubtless never have ven- 
tured. He, however, continued to live in this place 
of decay, and to declaim in the same style, refusing for 
many years to buy a house, because ail was going to 
wreck ; and in the end I had the satisfaction to see 
him pay five times as much for one as it would cost 
him had he purchased it when he first began his lamen- 
tations. 

I ought to have related, that, during the autumn 
of the preceding year, I had united the majority of 
well-informed persons of my acquaintance into a club 
which we called by the name of the Junto, and the 
object of which was to improve our undertandings. 
We' met every Friday evening. The regulations I 
drew up, obliged every member to propose, in his turn 
one or more questions upon some point of morality, po-' 
litics, or philosophy, which were to be discussed by the 
society ; and to read once in three months, an essay* 
of his own covnpo^iition, on whatever subject he plea- 
sed. Our deba'es were under the direction of a presi- 
dent, and were to be dictated only by a sincere desire' 
of truth ; the pleasure of disputing, and the vanity of 
triumph having no share in the business ; and in order 
to prevent undue warmth, every expression which im- 
G 2 



TB THE LIFE OF 

plied obstinate adherence to an opinion and all direct 
condradictions, were prohibited under small pecuniary 
penalties. 

The first members of our club were Joseph Breintnali 
whose occupation was that of a scrivener. He was a 
middle-aged man, of a good natural disposition, strongly 
attached to his friends, a great lover of poetry, reading 
every thing that came in his way, and writing tolerably 
well, ingenious in many little trifles, and of an agreeable 
conversation. 

Thomas Godfrey, a skilful, though self-taught mathe» 
matician, and who was afterwards the inventor of what 
now goes by the name of Hadley's dial ; but he had lit- 
tle knowledge out of his own line, and was insupporta- 
ble in company, always requiring, like the majority of 
mathematicians that have fallen in my way, an unusual 
precision in every thing that is said, continually contra- 
•dicting or making trifling distinctions ; a sure way of 
defeating all the ends of conversation. He very soon 
■left tjs. 

Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became after- 
wards surveyor-general. He was fond of books, and 
wrote verses. 

William Parsons, brought up to the trade of a shoe- 
maker, but who having a taste for reading, had acquired 
a profound knowledge of mathematics. Hie first stu* 
died them with a view to astrology, and was afterwards 
the first to laugh at his folly. He also became surveyor- 
general. 

William Mawgridge, a joiner, and a very excellent 
mechanic ; and in other repects a man of solid under- 
standing. 

Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb, 
•f whom 1 have already spoken. 

Bobert Grace, a young man of fortune ; generous, 
animated, and witty ; fond of epigrams, but more fond 
•f his friends. 

And lastly, William Coleman, at that time a merchant's 
clerk, and nearly of my own age He had a cooler and 
clearer head) a better heart, and moi^ scrupulous mo* 



DK. FRANKLIN. 79 

rals, than almost any other person I have ever met with. 
He became a very respectable merchant, and one of our 
provincial judges. Our friendship subsisted, without 
interruption for more than forty years, till the period 
of his death ; and the club continued to exist almost as 
long. 

This was the best school of politics and philoso- 
phy that then existed in the province ; for our quota- 
tions which were read a week previous to their dis- 
cussion, induced us to peruse attentively such pieces 
as were written upon the subjects proposed, that we 
might be able to speak upon them more pertinent- 
ly. We thus acquired the habit of conversing more 
agreeably ; every object being discussed conformably 
to our regulations, and in a manner to prevent mutual 
disgust. To this circumstance may be attributed the 
long duration of the club ; which I shall have frequent 
occasion to mention as I proceed. 

I have introduced it here, as being one of the 
means, on which I had to count for success in my 
business ; every member exerting himself to procure 
work for us. Breintnal, among others, obtainerl for 
us, on the part of the Quakers, the printing of for- 
ty sheets of their history ; of which the rest was to 
be done by Keimer. Our execution of this work 
was by no means masterly; as the price was very 
low. It was in folio, upon firo fiatria paper, and in 
the pica letter, with heavy notes in the smallest type. 
I composed a sheet a day, and Meredith put it to 
the press. It was frequently eleven o'clock at night, 
sometimes later, before I had finished my distribu-' 
tion for the next day's task ; for the liitle things which' 
our friends occasionally sent us, kept us back in this 
work : but I was so determined to compose a sheet a' 
day, that one evening, when my form was imposed, and 
my day's work, as I thought, at an end, an accident hay- 
ing broken this form, and deranged two complete folio 
pages, I immediately distributed) and composed them 
anew before I went to bed. 



to THE LIFE .Oi 

This unwearied industry^, which was perceived tjy our 
neighbours, began to acquire us reputation and credit. 
1 learned among othei; things, that our new printing- 
house being the subject of conversation at a club of 
merchants, who met every evening, it was the general 
opinion that it would fail ; theie being already two print- 
ing houses in the town, Keimer*s and Bradford's. But 
Dr. B^rd, whom you and I had occasion to see, many 
years after, at his native town of St. Andrews in Scot- 
land was of a different opinion. " The incUsstry of this 
Franklin (said he) is superior to any thing oi the kind I 
have ever witnessed. I see him still at work when I 
return from the club at night, and he is at it again in the 
morning before his neighbours are out of bed.*' This 
account struck the rest of the assembly, and shortly after 
one of its members came to our house, and ofi'ered to 
supply us with articles of stationary ; but we wished not 
as yet to embarrass ourselves with keeping a shop. It 
is not for the sake of applause that I enter so freely into 
the paniculars of my industry, but that such of my des- 
cendants as shall read these memoirs may know the use 
of this virtue, by seeing in the recital of my life the 
effects it operated in my f:AVour. 

George Webb, having found a friend who lent him 
the necessary sum to buy out his time of Kcimer, came 
one day to oifer himself to us as a journeyman. We 
could not employ him immediately ; but I foolishly told 
him under the rose, that I intended shortly to publish 
a new periodical paper, and that we should then have 
work for him. My hopes of success which I imparted 
to him, were founded on the circumstance, that the 
only paper we had in Philadelphia at that time, and 
which Bradford printed, was a paltry thing, miserably 
conducted, in no respect amusing, and which yet was 
profitable. I consequently supposed that a good work 
of this kind could not fail of success. Webb betrayed 
my secret to Keimer, who, to prevent me, immediate- 
ly published the prospectus of a paper that he intended 
to institute himself, and in which Webb was to be en- 
gaged. 



BH. FRANKLIN. 1^% 

I 'was exasperated at this proceeding, and, with 
a view to counteract them, not being able at pre- 
sent to institute my own paper, I wrote some hu- 
morous pieces in Bradford's, under the title of the 
Busy Body ;* and which was continued for seve- 
ral months by Breintnal. I hereby fixed the at- 
tention of the public upon Bradford's paper, and the 
prospectus of Keimcr, which we turned into ridicule, 
was treated with contempt. He began, notwithstanding, 
his paper ; and after continuing it for nine months, hav- 
ing at most not more than ninety subscribers, he offered 
it to me for a mere trifle. I had for some time been 
ready for such an engagement; I therefore instantly 
took it upon myself, and in a few years it proved ex- 
tremely profitable to me. 

I perceive that I am apt to speak in the first 
person, though our partnership still continued. It 
is perhaps, because, in fact, the whole business de- 
volved upon me. Meredith was no compositor, and 
but an indifferent pressman: and it was rarely that 
he abstained from hard drinking. My friends were 
sorry to see me coimected with him ; but I contrived 
to derive from it the utmost advantage the case admit- 
ted. 

Our first number produced no t)ther eifect than 
any 'other paper which had appeared in the province, 
as to type and printing ; but some remarks, in my 
peculiar style of writing, upon the dispute which 
then prevailed between governor Burnet, and the 
Massachusetts assembly, struck some persons as above 
mediocrity, caused the paper and its editors to be 
talked of, and in a few weeks induced them to be- 
come our subscribers. Many others followed their 
example ; and our subscription continued to increase. 
This was one of the first good effects of the pains I 



• A manuscript note in the file of the American Mercury, pre- 
served in the Philadelphia library, says, that Franklin wrote the 
fipst five numbers and part of the eighth. 



82 THE LIFE OF 

had taken to learn to put my ideas on paper. I derived 
this fartiier advantage from it, that the leading men of 
the place, seeing in the author of this publication a man 
so well able to use his pen, thought it right to patronise 
and encourage me. 

The votes* laws, and other public pieces, were print- 
ed by Bradford. An address of the house of assembly 
to tlie governor, had been executed by him in a very 
coarse and incorrect manner. We repiinted it with ac- 
curacy and neatness, and sent a copy to every member. 
They perceived the difference ; and it so strengthen- 
ed the influence of our friends in the assembly, 
that we were nominated its printer for the following 
year. 

Among these friends I ought not to forget one mem- 
ber in particular, Mr. Hamilton, whom I have mention- 
ed in a former part of my narrative, and who was now re- 
turned from England. He warmly interested himself 
for me on this occasion, as he did likewise on many 
others afterwards ; having continued his kindness to me 
till his death. 

About this period, Mr. yernon reminded me of the 
debt I owed him, but without pressing me for pay- 
ment. 1 wrote him a handsome letter on the occa- 
sion, begging him to wait a little longer, to which he 
consented; and, as soon as I was able, I paid him prin- 
ciple and interest, with many expressions of gratitude ; 
so that this error of my life was in a manner atoned 
for. 

But another trouble now happened to me, which I 
had not the smallest reason to expect. Meredith's fa- 
ther, who, according to our agreement, was to defray 
the whole expence of our printing materials, had only 
paid a hundred pouncis. Another hundred was still 
due, and the merchan: being tired of w^aiting, com- 
menced a suit against us. We bailed the action, but 
with the melancholy prospect, that, if the money was 
not forthcoming at the time fixed, the affair would 
come to issue, judgment be put in execution, our de- 
lightful hopes be annihilated, and ourselves entirely ruin- 



DR. FRANKLIN. $3 

cd ; as the type and press must be sold, perhaps at half 
their value to pay the debt. 

In this distress, two real friends, whose generous 
conduct I have never forgotten, and never shall forget 
while I retain the remembrance of any thing, came to 
me separately, without the knowledge of each other, 
and without my having applied to them. Each offered 
me whatever sum might be necessary to take the busi- 
ness into my own hands, if the thing was practicable, 
as they did not like I should continue in partnership 
with Meredith, who, they said, was frequently seen 
drunk in the streets, and gambling at ale-houses, which 
very much injured our credit. These friends were 
William Coleman and Robert Grace. I told them 
that while there remained any probability that the 
Merediths would fulfil their part of the compact, I 
could not propose a separation ; as I conceived myself 
to be under obligations to them for what they had done 
already, and were still disposed to do if they had the 
power : but in the end should they foil in their en- 
gagement, and our partnership be dissolved, I should 
then think myself at liberty to accept the kindness of my 
friends. 

Things remained for some time in this state. At 
last I said one day to my partner, '' your father is per- 
haps dissatisfied with your having a share only in the 
business, and is unwilling to do for two, what he would 
do for you alone. Tell me frankly if that be the case, 
and I will resign the whole to you, and do for myself 
as well as I can.'* — " No (said he) my father has real- 
ly been disappointed in his hopes; he is not able to pay, 
and I wish to put him to no further inconvenience. I 
see that I am not at all calculated for a printer ; t 
was educated as a farmer, and it was absurd in me to 
come here, at thirty years of age, and bind myself ap- 
prentice to a new trade. Many of my countrymen 
arc going to settle in North Carolina, where the soil 
is exceedingly favourable. I am tempted to go with 
them, and to resume my former occupation. You will 
doubtless find friends who will assist you. If you will 



84 THE LIFE OF 

take upon yourself the debts of the partnership, return 
my father the hundred pounds he has advanced, pay 
my little personal debts, and give me thirty pounds and 
a new saddle, I will renounce the partnership, and con* 
sign over the whole stock to you." 

1 accepted this proposal without hesitation. It was 
committed to paper, and signed and sealed without de» 
lay. I gave him what he demanded, and he departed 
soon after for Carolina, from whence he sent me, in 
the following year, two long letters, containing the 
best accounts that had yet been given of that country, 
as to climate, soil, agriculture, &c. for he wlas well 
versed in these matters. I published them in my 
newspaper, and they were received with great satisfac- 
tion. 

As soon as he was gone I applied to my two friends, 
and not wishing to give a disobliging preference to ci- 
ther of them, I accepted from each half what he had 
offered me, and which it was necessary I should have. I 
paid the partnership debts, and continued the business 
on my own account ; taking care to inform the public by 
advertisement, of the partnership being dissolved. This 
was, I think, in the year 1729, or thereabout. 

Nearly at the same period the people demanded a 
new emission of paper money : the existing and only 
one that had taken place in the province, and which 
amounted to fifteen thousand pounds, being soon to ex- 
pire. The wealthy inhabitants, prejudiced against eve- 
ry sort of paper currency, from the fear of its depre- 
ciation, of which there had been an instance in the 
province of New-England, to the injury of its holders, 
strongly opposed the measure. We had discussed the 
affair in our junto, in which I was on the side of the 
new emission ; convinced that the first small sum fa- 
bricated in 1723, had done much good in the province, 
by favouring commerce, industry and population, since 
all the houses were now inhabited, and many others 
building ; whereas I remembered to have seen, when 
first I paraded the streets of Philadelphia eating my roll, 
the majority of those in Walnut-Street, Second^Street^ 



DR. FIIANKLIN. 8d 

Fourth-Street, as well as a great number in Chesnut 
and other streets, with papers on them signifying that 
they were to be let ; which made me think at the time 
that the inhabitants of the town were deserting it one 
after another. 

Our debates made me so fully master of the subject, 
that I wrote and published an anonymous pamphlet, 
entitled An Enquiry into the Nature and necessity of 
a Paper Currency. It was very well received by the 
lower and middling class of people ; but it displeased 
the opulent, as it increased the clamour in favour of 
the new emission. Having, however, no writer among- 
them capable of answering it ; there opposition became 
less violent ; and there being in the house of assembly 
a majority for the measure, it passed. The friends I 
had acquired in the house, persuaded that I had done 
the country essential service on this occasion, rewarded 
me by giving me the printing of the bills. It was a 
lucrative employment, and proved a very seasonable 
help to me ; another advantage which I derived from 
having habituated myself to write. 

Time and experience so fully demonstrated the uti- 
lity of paper currency, that it never after experienced 
any considerable opposition ; so that it soon amounted 
to 55,0001. and in the year 1739 to 80,0001. It has 
since risen, during the last wai', to 350,0001, trade, 
buildings and population having in the interval conti- 
nually increased ; but I am now convinced that tiiere 
are limits, beyond which, paper money would be pre- 
judicial. 

I soon after obtained, by the influence of my friend 
Hamilton, the printing of the Newcastle paper money, 
another profitable work, as I then thought it, little 
things appearing great to persons of moderate fortune; 
and they were really great to me, as proving great en- 
couragements. He also procured me the printing of 
the laws and votes of that government which I retained 
as long as I continued in the business. 

I now opened a small stationer's shop. I kept bonds 
and agreements of all kinds, drawn up in a more accu- 

H 



86 THE LIFE OF 

rate form than had yet been seen in that part of the 
world : a work in which I was assisted by my fiieiul 
Brientnal. I had also paper, parchment, pasteboard, 
books, &c. One Whitemash, an excellent compositor, 
whom I had known in London, came to ofier himself. 
I engaged him, and he continued constantly and dili- 
gently to work with me. I also took an apprentice, the 
son of Aquila Rose, 

I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had contract- 
ed ; and in order to insure my credit and character as 
a tradesman, I took care not only to be really indus- 
trious and frugal, but also to avoid every appearance 
of the contrary. I was plainly dressed, and never seen 
in any place of public amusement. I never went a 
fishing or hunting. A book indeed inticed me some- 
limes from my work, but it was seldom, by stealth, and 
occasioned no scandal ; and to show that 1 did not think 
myself above my profession, I conveyed home some- 
times in a wheelbarrow the paper I purchased at the 
warehouses, 

I thus obtained the reputation of being an indus- 
trious young man, and very punctual in his payments. 
The merchants who imported articles of stationary, so- 
licited my custom ; others offered to furnish me with 
books, and my little trade went on prosperously. 

Meanwhile the credit and business of Keimer dimi- 
nished every day, he was at last forced to sell his stock 
to satisfy his creditors ; and he betook himself to Bar- 
badoes, where he lived for some time in a very impo- 
verished state. His apprentice, David Harry, whom 
I had instructed while I worked with Keimer, having 
bought his materials, succeeded him in the business. I 
Avas apprehensive, at first, of finding in Harry a power- 
ful competitor, as he was allied to an opulent and re- 
spectable family ; I therefore proposed a partnership, 
which happily for me, he rejected with disdain. He 
was extremely proud, thought himself a fine gentle- 
man, lived extravagantly, and pursued amusements 
which suffered him to be scarcely ever at home • of 
consequence he became in debt, neglected his business. 



DR. FRANKLIN. Q7 

and business neglected him. Findin?^ in a short time 
pothing to do in the country, he followed Keimer to 
Barbadoes, carrying his printing materials with him. 
There the apprentice enjployed his old master as a 
journeyman. They were continually quarrelling ; and 
Harry still getting in debt, was oblig:cd at last to sell 
his press and types, and return to his old occupation 
of husbandry in Pennsylvania. The person who pur- 
chased them employed Keimer to manage the business; 
but he died a few years after. 

I had now at Philadelphia no competitor but Brad- 
ford, who, being in easy circumstances, did not engage 
in the Printing of books, except now and then as work- 
men chanced to offer themselves ; and was not anxious 
to extend his trade. He had, however, one advan- 
tage over me, as he had the direction of the post-office, 
and was of consequence supposed to have better oppor- 
tunities of obtaining news. His paper was also sup- 
posed to be more advantageous to advertising custom- 
ers ; and in consequence of that supposition, his adver- 
tisements were much more numerous than mine : this 
was a source of great profit to him, and disadvantage- 
ous to me. It was to no purpose that I really procur- 
ed other papers, and distributed my own, by means of 
the post ; the public took for granted my inability in 
this respect ; and I was indeed unable to conquer it 
in any other mode than by bribing the post-boys, who 
served me only by stealth, Bradford being so illiberal 
as to forbid them. — This treatment of his excited my 
resentment ; and my disgust was so rooted, that, when 
1 afterwards succeeded him in the post-ofFice, I took 
care to avoid copying his example. 

I had hitherto continued to board with Godfrey, 
who, with his wife and children, occupied part of my 
house, and half of the shop for his business ; at which 
indeed he worked very little, being always absorbed by 
mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey formed a wish of marry- 
ing me to the daughter of one of her relations. She 
contrived various opportunities of bringing us together, 
till she saw that I was captivated ; which was not dif- 



^8 THB LIFE OF 

licult the lady in question possessing great personal 
merit. The parents encouraged my addresses, by in- 
viting me continually to supper, and leaving us toge- 
ther, till at last it was time to come to an explanation. 
Mrs. Godfrey undertook to negociate our Httle treaty. 
I gave her to understand, that 1 expected to receive 
with the young lady a sum of money that would ena- 
ble me at least to discharge the remainder of my debt 
for my printing materials. It was then, I believe, 
not more than a hundred pounds. She brought me 
for answer, that they had no such sum at their disposal. 
I observed that it might easily be obtained, by a mort- 
gage on their house. The reply of this was, after a 
few days interval, that they did not approve of the 
match ; that they had consulted Bradford, and found 
that the business of a printer was not lucrative ; that 
my letters would soon be worn out, and must be sup- 
plied with new ones ; that Keimer and Harry had failed, 
and that, probably, I should do so too. Accordingly 
they forbade me the house, and the young lady was 
confined. I know not if they had really changed their 
minds, or if it was merely an artifice, supposing our af- 
fections to be too far engaged for us to desist, and 
that we should contrive to marry secretly, which would 
leave them at liberty to give or not as they pleased. 
But, suspecting this motive, I never went again to their 
house. 

Some time after Mrs. Godfrey informed me that 
they were favourably disposed towards me, and wished 
Tne to renew the acquaintance ; but I declared a firm 
resolution never to have any thing more to do with the 
family. The Godfrey's expressed some resentment at 
this ; and as we could no longer agree, they changed 
0eir residence, leaving me in possession of the whole 
house. I then resolved to take no more lodgers. This 
affair having turned my thoughts to marriage, I look- 
ed around mc, and made overtures of alliance in other 
quarters ; but I soon found that the profession of a 
printer being generally looked upon as a poor trade, I 
could expect no money with a wife, at least if I wish- 



DR. FRANKOLIN. 89 

«d her to possess any other charm. Meanwhile, that 
passion of youth, so difficult lo govern, had often drawn 
me into intrigues with desp. cable women, who fell in 
my way ; which were not unaccompanied with ex- 
pence and inconvenience, besides the perpetual risk of 
injuring my health, and catching a disease which I 
dreaded above all things. But 1 was fortunate enough 
to escape this danger. 

As a neighbour and old acquaintance, I kept up a 
friendly intimacy with the family of Miss Read. Her 
parents had retained an affection for me from the time 
of my lodging in their house. I was often invited 
thither ; they consulted me about their affairs, and I 
had been sometimes serviceable to them I was touch- 
ed with the unhappy situation of their daughter, who 
was almost always melancholy, and continually seeking 
solitude. I regarded my forgeifulness and inconstancy, 
during my abode in London, as the principal-cause of 
her misfortune ; though her mother had the candour 
to attribute the fault to herself, rather than to me, be- 
cause after having prevented our marriage previous to 
my departure she had induced her to marry another in 
my absence. 

Our mutual affection revived ; but there existed 
great obstacles to our union. Her marriage was con- 
sidered, indeed, as not being valid, the man having, it 
was said, a former wife still living in England ; but 
of this it was difficult to obtain a proof at so great a 
distance ; and though a report prevailed of his being 
dead, yet we had no certainty of it ; and supposing it to 
be true, he had left many debts, for the payment of which 
his successor might be sued. We ventured neverthe- 
less, in spite of all these difficulties, and I married her 
on the first of September 1720. None of the inconve- 
niences we had feared happened to us; she proved to me 
a good and faithful companion, and contributed essen- 
tially to the success of my shop. We prospered to- 
gether, and it was our mutual study to render each 
H 2 



9^0 THE LIFE OF 

Other happy. Thus I corrected, as well as I could, this 
great error of my youth. 

Our club was not at that time established at a 
tavern. We held our meetings at the house of Mr. 
Grace who appropriated a room to the purpose. Some 
member observed one day, that as our books were fre- 
quently quoted in the course of our discussions, it 
would be convenient to have them collected in the 
room in which we assembled, in order to be consulted 
upon occasion; and that, by thus forming a common 
library of our individual collections, each would have the 
advantage of using the books of all the other members, 
which would nearly be the same as if he possessed them 
all himself. The idea was approved, and we according- 
ly brought such books as we thought we could spare, 
which were placed at the end of the club-room. They 
amounted not to so many as we expected ; and though 
we made considerable use of them, yet some inconve- 
niencies resulting, from want of care, it was agreed, 
after about a year, to destroy the collection ; and each 
took away such books as belonged to him. 

It was now that I first stated the idea of establishing, 
by subscription, a public library. I drew up the pro- 
posals, had them in grossed in form by Brockden the 
attorney, and my project succeeded, as will be seen in 
the sequel ♦***•♦ 



[The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself, so 
far as it has been communicated to the world, breaks 
off in this place. We understand that it was conti- 
nued by him somewhat further, and we hope that the 
remainder will, at some future period, be communica- 
ted to the public. We have no hesitation in suppo- 
sing that every reader will find himself greatly interest- 
ed by the frank simplicity and the philosophical dis- 
cernment by which these pages are so eminently cha- 
racterised. We have therefore thought proper, in 



DR. FRANKLIK. 91 

order as much as possible to relieve this regret, to sub- 
join the following continuation, by one of the doctor's 
intimate friends. It is extracted from an American 
periodical publication, and was written by the late Dr. 
btuber* of Philadelphia.] 



m HE promotion of literature had been little at- 
tended to in Pennsylvania. Most of the inhabitants 
were too much immersed in business to think of 
scientific pursuits ; and those few, whose inclinations 
led them to study, found it difficult to gratify them, 
from the want of sufficiently large libraries. In such 
circumstances, the establishment of a public library was 
an important event. This was first set on foot by 
Franklin, about the year 1731. Fifty persons sub- 
scribed forty shillings each, and agreed to pay ten 

• Dr. Sluber was horn in Philadelphia, of German parents. 
He was sent, at an early ac^e, to the university, where his genius, 
diligence, and amiable temper soon acquired him particular notice 
and favour of those under whose immediate direction he was pla- 
ced. After passing through the common course of study, in a 
much shorter time than usual, he left the university, at the age of 
sixteen, with great reputation. Not long after, he entered on the 
study of Physic ; and the zeal with which he pursued it, and the 
advances he made, gave his friends reason to form the most flat- 
tering prospects of his future eminence and usefulness in the pro- 
fession. As Dr. Stuber's circumstances were very moderate, he 
did not think this pursuit well calculated to answer them. He 
therefore relinquished it, after he had obtained a degree in the pro- 
fession, and qualified himself to practise with credit and success: 
and immediately entered on the study of Law. In pursuit of the 
last mentioned object, he was prematurely arrested, beibre he had 
an opportunity of reaping the fruit of those talents with which he 
was endowed, and of a youth spent in the ardent and successful 
pursuit of useful and elegant Uterature. 



52 THE LIFE OF 

shillings annually. The number increased ; and in 
1742, the company was incorporated by the name of 
*' The Library Company of Philadelphia." Several 
other companies were formed in this city in imitation 
of it. These were all at length united with the li- 
brary company of Philadelphia, which thus received a 
considerable accession of books and property. It now 
contains about eight thousand volumes upon all sub- 
jects, a philosophical apparatus, and a good beginning 
towards a collection of natural and artificial curiosities, 
besides landed property of considerable value. The 
company have lately built an elegant house in Fifth- 
street, in the front of which will be erected a marble 
statue of their founder, Benjamin Franklin. 

This institution was greatly encouraged i)y the friends 
of literature in America and in Great Britain. The 
Penn family distinguished themselves by their dona- 
tions. Amongst the earliest friends of this institution 
must be mentioned the late Peter Collinson, the friend 
and correspondent of Dr. Franklin. He not only made 
considerable presents himself, and obtained others from 
his friends, but voluntarily undertook to manage the 
business of the company in London, recommending 
books, purchasing and shipping them. His extensive 
knowledge, and zeal for the promotion of science? ena- 
bled him to execute this important trust with the great- 
est advantage. He continued to perform these servi- 
ces for more than thirty years, and uniformly refused to 
accept of any compensation. During this time, he 
communicated to the directors every information rela- 
tive to improvements and discoveries in the arts, agri- 
culture, and philosophy. 

The beneficial influence of this institution was soon 
evident. The cheapness of terms rendered it accessi- 
ble to every one. Its advantages were not confined to 
the opulent. The citizens in the middle and lower 
walks of life were equally partakers of them. Hence 
a degree of information was extended anaongst all class- 



DR. FRANKLIJC. 93 

cs of pcopie, which is very unusual in other places, 
'i'he example was soon followed. Libraries were esta- 
blished in various places, and they are now become 
very r.amerous in the United States, and particularly 
in Pennsylvania. It is to be hoped that they will be 
still more widely extended, and that information will 
be every where increased. This will be the best secu- 
rity f\)r maintaining our liberties. A nation of well 
informed men, who have been taught to know and 
prize the rights which God has given them, cannot be 
enslaved. It is in the regions of ignorance that ty- 
ranny reigns. It flics before the light of science. Let 
the citizens of America, then, encourage institutions 
calculated to diffuse knowledge amongst the people ; 
and amongst these, public libraries are not the least im- 
portant. 

In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Richard's 
Almanack. This was remarkable for the numerous 
and valuable concise maxims which it contained, all 
tending to exhort to industry and frugality. It was 
continued for many years. In the almanack for the 
last year all the maxims were collected in an address 
to the reader, entitled. The Way to Wealth. This 
has been translated into various languages, and inserted 
in different publications. It has also been printed on a 
large sheet, and may be seen framed in many houses 
in this city. This address contains, perhaps the best 
practical system of economy that ever has appeared. 
It is written in a manner intelligible to every one, 
and which cannot fail of convincing every reader of 
the justice and propriety of the remarks and advice 
which it contains. The demand for this almanack was 
so great, that ten thousand have been sold in one year ; 
which must be considered as a very large number, 
especially when we reflect, that this country was, at 
that time, but thinly peopled. It cannot be doubted 
that the salutary maxims contained in these almanacks 
must have made a f^svourable impression upon many of 
the readers of them. 



S4 THE LIFE OF 

It was not long beforie Franklin entered upon his po- 
litical career. In the year 1736 he was appointed clerk 
to the general assembly of Pennsylvania; and was re-t 
elected by the succeeding assemblies for several years, 
until he was chosen a representative for the city of 
Philadelphia. 

Bradford was possessed of some advantages over 
Franklin, by being postmaster, thereby having an op- 
portunity of circulating his paper more extensively, and 
thus rendering it a better vehicle for advertisements, &c. 
Franklin, in his turn, enjoyed these advantages, by be- 
ing appointed postmaster of Philadelphia in 1737. Brad- 
ford, while in office, had acted ungenerously towards 
Franklin, preventing as much as possible the circulation 
of his paper. He had now an opportunity of retaliating ; 
but his nobleness of soul prevented him from making 
use of it. 

The police of Philadelphia had early appointed 
watchmen, whose duty it was to guard the citizens 
against the midnight robber, and to give an immediate 
alarm in case of fire. This duty is perhaps, one of the 
most important that can be committed to any set of 
men. The regulations, however, were not sufficiently 
strict. Franklin saw the dangers arising from this 
cause, and suggested an alteration, so as to oblige the 
guardians of the night to be more watchful over the 
lives and property of the citizens. The propriety of 
this was immediately perceived, and a reform was 
effected. 

There is nothing more dangerous to growing cities 
than fires. Other causes operate slowly, and almost im- 
perceptibly, but these in a moment render abortive the 
labours of ages. On this account there should be, in all 
cities, ample provisions to prevent fires from spreading. 
Franklin early saw the necessity of these ; and, about 
the year 1738, formed the first fire-company in this 
city. This example was soon followed by others ; and 
there are now numerous fire companies in this city and 
liberties. To these may be attributed in a great degree 
the activity in extinguishing fires, for which the ciu« 



DR. FIIANKLIN. 95 

zens of Philadelphia are distinguished, and the incon- 
siderable damage which this city has sustained from 
this cause. Some time after, Franklin suggested the 
plan of an association for insuring houses from losses by 
fire, which was adopted ; and the association continues 
to this day. The advantages experienced from it have 
been great. 

From the first establishment of Pennsylvania, a spirit 
of dispute appears to have prevailed amongst its inhabi- 
tants. During the life-time of William Penn the con- 
stitution had been three times altered. After this pe- 
riod, the history of Pennsylvania is little else than a re- 
cital of the quarrels between the proprietaries, or their 
governors, and the assembly. . The proprietaries con- 
tended for the right of exempting their land from taxes, 
to which the assen)bly would by no means consent. 
This subject of dispute interfered in almost every ques- 
tion, and prevented the most salutary laws from being 
enacted. This at limes subjected the people to great 
inconveniences. In the year 1744, during a war be- 
tween France and Great Britain, some French and In- 
dians had made inroads upon the frontier inhabitants of 
the province, who were unprovided for such an attack. 
It became necessary that the citizens should arm for 
their defence. Governor Thomas recommended to the 
assembly who were then sitting, to pass a militia law. 
To this they would agree only upon condition that he 
should give his assent to certain laws, which appeared 
to them calculated to promote the interest of the peo- 
ple. As he thought these laws would be injurious to 
the proprietaries he refused his assent to them ; and 
the assembly broke up without passing a militia law. 
The situation of the province was at this time truly 
alarming ; exposed to the continual inroads of an ene- 
my, and destitute of every means of defence. At this 
crisis Franklin stepped forth, and proposed to a meet- 
ing of the citizens of Philadelphia, a plan of a volun- 
tary association for the defence of the province. This 
was approved of, and signed by twelve hundred persons 
immediately. Copies of it were circulated throughout 



96 THE LIFE 0¥ 

the province ; and in a short time the number of sign- 
ers amounted to ten thousand. Franklin was chosen 
colonel of the Philadelphia rej^iment ; but he did not 
think proper to accept of the honour. 

Pursuits of a different nature now occupied the great- 
est part of his attention for some years. He engaged 
in a course of electrical experiments, with all the ar- 
dour and thirst for discovery which characterized the 
philosophers of that day. Of all the branches of ex- 
perimental philosophy, electricity had been least ex- 
plored. The attractive power of amber is mentioned 
by Theophrastus and Pliny, and, from them, by later 
naturalists. In the year 1600, Gilbert, an English phy- 
sycian, enlarged considerably the catalogue of sub- 
stances which have the property of attracting light bo- 
dies. Boyle, Otto Guericke, a burgomaster of Mag- 
deburgh, celebrated as the inventor of the air pump, 
Dr. Wall, and sir Isaac Newton added some facts : 
Guericke first observed the repulsive power of elec- 
tricity, and the Jight and noise produced by it. 

In 1709, Hawkesbec communicated some important 
observations and experiments to the world. For seve- 
ral years electricity was entirely neglected, until Mr. 
Gray applied himself to it, in 1728, with great assidui- 
ty. He and his friend Mr. Wheeler, made a great va- 
riety of experiments ; in which they demonstrated that 
electricity may be communicated from one body to an- 
other, even without being in contact, and in this way 
may be conducted to a great distance. Mr. Gray af- 
terwards found, that by suspending rods of iron by silk 
or hair lines and bringing an excited tube under them, 
sparks might be drawn, and a light perceived at the 
extremities in the dark. M. Du Faye, intendant of the 
French King's gardens, made a number of experiments, 
which added not a little to the science. He made the 
discovery of two kinds of electricity, which he called 
vitreous and resinous ; the former produced by rubbing 
glass, the latter from excited sulphur, sealing wax, &c. 
But this idea he afterwards gave up as erroneous. Be- 
tween the year 1732 and 1749, Defaguliersmade anum- 



an. FRANKLIN. 97 

ber of experiments, but added little of importance. He 
first used the terms conductors and electrics^ fier se. In 
1742, several ingenious Germans engaged in this sub- 
ject. Of these the principle were, professor Boze of 
Whittemberg, professor Winkler of Leipsic, Gordon, 
a Scotch Benedictine monk, professor of philosophy at 
Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf of Berlin. The result of their 
researches astonished the philosophers of Europe. 1 heir 
apparatus was large, and by means of it they were en- 
abled to collect large quantities of electricity, and thus 
to produce phenomena which had been hitherto unob- 
served. They killed smalj birds, and set spirits on fire. 
Their experiments excited the curiosity of other phi- 
losophers. Collinson about the year 1745, sent to the 
library company of Philadelphia an account of these ex- 
periments, together with a tube, and directions how to 
use it. Franklin, with some of his friends, immediate- 
ly engaged in a course of experiments ; the result of 
which is well known. He was enabled to make a num- 
ber of important discoveries, and to propose theories 
to account for various phenomena ; which have been 
universally adopted, and which bid fair to endure for 
ages. His observations he communicated, in a series 
of letters, to his friend Collinson ; the first of which 
is dated March 28th, 1747. In these he makes known 
the power of points in drawing and throwing off the 
electrical matter, which had hitherto escaped the no- 
tice of electricians. He also made the grand discove- 
ry of a plus and minus^ or of a positive and negative 
state of electricity. We give him the honour of this, 
without hesitation ; although the English have claim- 
ed it for their countryman Dr. Watson. Watson's pa- 
per is dated January 21, 1748; Franklin's July 11, 1747; 
several months prior. Shortly after, Franklin, from his 
principles of plus and minus state, explained, in a sa- 
tisfactory manner, the phenomena of the Leyden phi- 
al, first observed by Mr. Cuneus, or by professor Mus- 
chenbroeck of Leyden, which had much perplexed phi- 
losophers. He showed clearly that the bottle, when 
charged, contained no more electricity than before, but 

I 



98 THE LIFE OF 

that as much was taken from the one side as was 
thrown on the other-, and that, to discharge it noth- 
ing was necessary but to make a communication be- 
tween the two sides, by which the equilibrium might 
be restored, and that then no signs of electricity would 
remain. 

He afterwards demonstrated, by experiments, that the 
electricity did not reside in the coating, as had been 
supposed, but in the pores of the glass itself. After a 
phial was charged, he removed the coating, and found 
that upon applying a new coating the shock might still 
be received. In the year 1749, he first suggested his 
idea of explaining the phenomena of thundergusts, and 
of the aurora borealis, upon electrical principles. He 
points out many particulars in which lightning and elec- 
tricity agree ; and he adduces many facts, and reason- 
ing from facts, in support of his positions. In the same 
year he conceived the astonishingly bold and grand idea 
of ascertaining the truth of his doctrine, by actually 
drawing down the forked lightning, by means of sharp- 
pointed iron rods raised into the region of the clouds. 
Even in this uncertain state, his passion to be use- 
ful to mankind displays itself in a powerful manner. 
Admitting the identity of electricity and lightning, 
and knowing the power of points in repelling bodies 
charged with electricity, and in conducting their fire 
silently and imperceptibly, he suggests the idea of se- 
curing houses, ships, &c. from being damaged by light- 
ning, by erecting pointed iron rods, which should rise 
some feet above the most elevated part, and descend 
some feet into the ground or the water. The effect of 
these, he concluded, would be either to prevent a stroke 
by repelling the cloud beyond the striking distance, or 
by drawing off the electrical fire which it contained ; 
or, if they could not effect this, they would at least con- 
duct the stroke to the earth, without any injury to the 
building. 

It was not until the summer of 1752, that he was 
enabled to complete his grand and unparalleled disco- 
very by experiment. The plan which he had original- 



Da. FRANKLIN. 9^ 

ly proposed, was to erect on some high tower, or other 
elevated place, a centry-box, from which should rise a 
pointed iron rod, insulated by being fixed in a cake of 
resin. Electrified clouds passing over this, would he 
conceived, impart to it a portion of their electricity, 
which would be rendered evident to the senses by sparks 
being emitted, when a key, a knuckle, or other con- 
ductor, was presented to it. Philadelphia at this time 
afiForded no opportunity of trying an experiment of this 
kind. Whilst Franklin was waiting for the erection of 
a spire, it occurred to him, that he might have more rea- 
dy access to the region of clouds by means of a com- 
mon kite. He prepared one by attaching two cross 
sticks to a silk handkerchief, which would not suffer so 
much from the rain as paper. To his upright stick 
was fixed an iron point. The string was, as usual, of 
hemp, except the lower end, which was silk. Where 
the hempen string terminated, a key was fastened. 
With this apparatus, on the appearance of a thunder- 
gust approaching, he went into the commons, accom- 
panied by his son, to whom alone he communicated his 
intentions, well knowing the ridicule which too gene- 
rally for the interest of science, awaits unsuccessful 
experiments in philosophy. 

He placed himself under a shed to avoid the rain. 
His kite was raised. A thunder cloud passed over it. 
No signs of electricity appeared. He almost despaired 
of success ; when suddenly he observed the lo«se fibres 
of his string move towards an erect position. He 
now presented his knuckle to the key, and received a 
strong spark. How exquisite must his sensations have 
been at this moment ! On this experiment depended 
the fate of his theory. If he succeeded, his name 
would rank high amongst those who have improved 
science ; if he failed, he must inevitably be subjected 
to the derision of mankind, or, what is worse, their 
pity, as a well-meaning man, but a weak, silly pro- 
jector. The anxiety with which he looked for the re- 
sult of his experiment, may easily be conceived. 
Doubts and despair had begun to prevail, when the 



100 THE LIFE OF 

fact was ascertained in so clear a manner, that even 
the most incredulous could no longer withhold their as- 
sent. Repeated sparks were drawn from the key, a 
phial was charged, a shock given, and all the experi- 
ments made, which are usually performed with electri- 
city. 

About a month before this |^riod some ingenious 
Frenchman had completed th^«iiscovery, in the man- 
ner originally proposed by Dr. Franklin. The letters 
which he sent to Mr. Collinson, it is said, were re- 
fused a place amongst the papers of the Royal Society 
of London. However, this may be, Collinson publish- 
ed them in a separate volume, under the title of JVeiu 
Exfieriments and Observations on Electricity^ made at 
Philadelfihia in America, They were read with avi- 
dity, and soon translated into different languages. A 
very incorrect French translation fell into the hands 
of the celebrated Buffon, who notwithstanding the dis- 
advantages under which the work laboured, was much 
pleased with it, and repeated the experiments, with suc- 
cess. He prevailed upon his friend, M. D'Alibard, 
to give his countrymen a more coirect translation of 
the work of the American electrician. This contri- 
buted much towards spreading a knowledge of Frank- 
lin's principles in France. — The king, Louis XV, 
hearing of these experiments expressed a wish to be a 
spectator of them. A course of experiments was given 
at the seat of the Due D'Ayen, at St. Germaine, by 
M. de Lor. The applauses which the king bestowed 
upon Franklin, excited in Buffon, D'Alibard, and 
De Lor, an earnest desire of ascertaining the truth of 
his theory of thunder-gusts. Buffon erected his ap- 
paratus on the tower of Montbar. M. D'Alibard at 
Mary-la-ville, and De Lor at his house in the Estra- 
fiade at Paris, som« of the highest ground in that 
capital. D*Alibard's machine first showed signs of 
electricity. On the tenth of May, 1752, a thunder 
cloud passed over it, in the absence of M. D*Alibard ; 
and a number of sparks were drawn from it by Coiffier, 
a joiner, with whom D'Alibard had left directions how 



DR. FRANKLIN. lOl 

to proceed, and by M. Raulet, the prior of Mary-la- 
ville. An account of this experiment was given to 
the Royal Academy of Sciences, in a memoir by M. 
D*Alibard, dated May 13th, 1752. On the 18th of 
May, M. De Lor proved equally successful with the 
apparatus erected at his own house. These discoveries 
soon excited the philosophers of other parts of Europe 
to repeat the experiment. Amongst these, none sig- 
nalized themselves more than father Beccaria of Tu- 
rin, to whose observations science is much indebted. 
Even the cold regions of Russia were penetrated by 
the ardor for discovery. Professor Richman bade fair 
to add much to the stock of knowledge on this subject, 
when an unfortunate flash from his rod put a period 
to his existence. — The friends of science will long re- 
member with regret the amirable martyr to electri- 
city. 

By these experiments Franklin's theory was esta- 
blished in the most firm manner. When the truth of 
it could no longer be doubted, the vanity of men en- 
deavoured to detract from its merit. That an Ame- 
rican, an inhabitant of the obscure city of Philadel- 
phia, the name of which was hardly known, should be 
able to make discoveries, and to frame theories, which 
had escaped the notice of the enlightened philosophers 
of Europe, was too mortifying to be admitted. He 
must certainly have taken the idea from somebody else. 
An American, a being of an inferior order, make dis- 
coveries 1 Impossible. It was said, that the Abbe 
Nollet, in 1 748, had suggested the idea of the similari- 
ty of lightning and electricity, in his Lecons de P/nj' 
sique. It is true, that the Abbe mentions the idea, 
but he throws it out as a bare conjecture, and proposes 
no mode of ascertaining the truth of it. He himself 
acknowledges that Franklin first entertained the bold 
tliought of bringing lightning from the heavens, by 
means of pointed rods fixed in the air. The similarity 
of electricity and lightning is so strong, that we need 
not be surprised at notice being taken of it, as soon as 
electrical phenomena became familiar. We find it 
12 



i02 THE LIFE OF 

mentioned by Dr. Wall and Mr. Gray, while the 
science was in its infancy. But the honour of forming 
a regular theory of thunder-gusts, of suggesting a mode 
of determining the truth of it by experiments, and of 
putting these experiments in practice, and thus esta- 
blishing his theory upon a firm and solid basis, is incon- 
testibly due to Franklin. D'Alibard, who made the ex- 
periments in France, says, that he only followed the 
track which Franklin had pointed out. 

It has been of late asserted, that the honour of com- 
pleting the experiment with the electrical kite does 
not belong to Franklin. Some late English para- 
graphs have attributed it to some Frenchman, whose 
name they did not mention ; and the Abbe Bertholon 
gives it to M. De Romas, assessor to the presideal of 
Nerac ; the English paragraphs probably refer to the 
same person. But a very slight attention will con- 
vince us of the injustice of this procedure : Ur. Frank- 
lin's experiment was made in June 1752 ; and his let- 
ter, giving an account of it, is dated October 19, 1752, 
M. De Romas made his first attempt on the 14th of 
May 1753, but was not successful until the 7th of 
June ; a year after Franklin had completed the dis- 
covery, and when it was known to all the philosophers 
in Europe. 

Besides these great principles, Franklin's letters on 
electricity contain a number of facts and hints, which 
have contributed greatly towards reducing this branch 
of knowledge to a science. His friend, Mr. Kinners- 
ly, communicated to him a discovery of the different 
kinds of electricity excited by rubbing glass and sul- 
phur. This, we have said, was first observed by M. 
Du Faye ; but it was for many years neglected. The 
philosophers were disposed to account for the pheno- 
mena, rather from a difference in the quantity of elec- 
tricity collected ; and even Du Faye himself seems at 
last to have adopted this doctrine. Franklin at first 
entertained the same idea; but upon repealing the ex- 
periments, he perceived that Mr. Kinnersley was right; 
and that the viiregus and resinous electricity of Du 



DR. fRANKLIK. 103 

Faye were nothing more than the positive and nega^ 
tive states which he had before observed ; that the glass 
globe charged fiositiveli/j or increased the quantity of 
electricity on the prime conductor, whilst the globe of 
sulphur diminished its natural quantity, or charged ne- 
gatively. These experiments and observations opened 
a new field for investigation, upon which electricians 
entered with avidity; and their labours have added 
much to the stock of our knowledge. 

In September, 1752, Franklin entered upon a course 
of experiments, to determine the state of electricity in 
the clouds. From a number of experiments he formed 
this conclusion : " that the clouds of a thunder-gust 
are most commonly in a negative state of electricity, 
but sometimes in a positive state ;" and from this it 
follows, as a necessary consequence, " that, for the most 
part, in thunder-strokes, it is the earth that strikes into 
the clouds, and not the clouds that strike into the 
earth." The letter containing these observations is 
dated in September, 1753; and yet the discovery of 
ascending thunder has been said to be of a modern date 
and has been attributed to the Abbe Bertholon, who 
published his memoir on the subject in 1776. 

Franklin's letters have been translated into most of 
the European languages, and into Latin. In propor- 
tion as they have become known, his principles have 
been adopted. Some opposition was made to his theo- 
ries, particularly by the Abbe Nollet, who was, how- 
ever, but feebly supported, whilst the first philosophers 
of Europe stepped forth in defence of Franklin's prin- 
ciples ; amongst whom D'Alibard and Beccaria were 
the most distinguished. The opposition has gradually 
ceased, and the Franklinian system is now universally 
adopted, where science flourishes. 

The important practical use which Franklin made 
of his discoveries, the securing of houses from injury 
by lightning, has been already mentioned. Pointed 
conductors are now very common in America ; but 
prejudice has hitherto prevented their general intro- 
duction into Europe, notwithstanding the most un- 



104 THE LIFE O? 

doubted proofs of their utility have been given. But 
mankind can with difficulty be brought to lay aside 
established practices, or to adopt new ones. And per- 
haps we have more reason to be sur])rised that a prac- 
tice, however rational, which was proposed about for- 
ty years ago, should in that time have been adopted 
in so many places, than that it has not universally 
prevailed. It is only by degrees that the great body of 
mankind can be led into new practices, however salutary 
their tendency. It is now nearly eighty years since in- 
oculation was introduced into Europe and America ; 
and it is so far from being general at present, that it will, 
perhaps, require one or two centuries to render it 
so. 

In the year 174S, Franklin published an account of 
his new invented Pennsylvania fire-places, in which he 
ipinutely and accurately states the advantages and dis- 
advantages of different kinds of fire-places ; and en- 
deavours to shew that the one which he describes is to 
be preferred to any other. This contrivance has given 
rise to the open stoves now in general use, which how- 
ever differ from it in construction, particularly in not 
having an air-box at the back, through which a con- 
stant supply of air, warmed in its passage, is thrown 
into the room. The advantages of this are, that as a 
stream of warm air is continually flowing into the room, 
less fuel is necessary to preserve a proper temperature, 
and the room may be so tightened as that no air may 
enter through cracks ; the consequences of which are 
colds, toothaches &c. 

Although philosophy was a principle object of Frank- 
lin's pursuit for several years, he confined himself not 
to this. In the year 1747, he became a member of 
the general assembly of Pennsylvania, as a burgess for 
the city of Philadelphia. Warm disputes at this time 
subsisted between the assembly and the proprietaries ; 
each contending for what they conceived to be their 
just rights. Franklin, a friend to the rights of man 
from his infancy* soon distinguished himself as a steady 
opponent of the unjust schemes oi the proprietaries.-— 



DR. FRANKLIN. 165 

He was soon looked up to as the head of the opposi- 
tion ; and to him have been attributed many of the spi- 
rited replies of the assembly, to the messages of the go- 
vernors. His influence in the body was very great. 
This arose not from any superior powers of eloquence ; 
he spoke but seldom, and he never was known to make 
any thing like an elaborate harrangue. His speeches 
often consisted of a single sentence, or of a well-told 
story, the moral of which was always obviously to the 
point. He never attempted the flowery fields of ora- 
tory. His manner was plain and mild. His style in 
speaking was, like that of his writings, remarkably 
concise. With this plain manner, and his penetrating 
and solid judgment, he was able to confound the most 
eloquent and subtle of his adversaries, to confirm the 
opinions of his friends, and to make converts of the 
unprejudiced who had opposed him. With a single 
observation, he has rendered of no avail an elegant and 
lengthy discourse, and determined the fate of a question 
of importance. 

But he was not contented with thus supporting the 
rights of the people. He wished to render them per- 
manently secure, which can only be done by making 
their value properly known ; and this must depend up- 
on increasing and extending information to every class 
of men. We have already seen that he was the found- 
er of the public library, which contriouted greatly to* 
wards improving the minds of the citizens. But this 
was not sufficient. The schools then subsisting were 
in general of little utility. The teachers were men ill 
qualified for the important duty which they had under- 
taken ; and, after all, nothing more could be ob ained 
than the rudiments of a common English education. 
Franklin drew up a plan of an academy, to be erected 
in the city of Philadelphia, suited to '< the state of an 
infant country ;" but in this, as in all his plans, he 
confined not his views to the present time only. He 
looked forward to the period when an institution on an 
enlarged plan would become necessary. With this 
view he considered his academy as " a foundation for 



106 THE LIFE oy 

posterity to erect a seminary of learning, more exten- 
sive, and suitable to future circumstances." In pur- 
suance of this plan, the constitutions were drawn up 
and signed on the 13th of November 1749. In these 
twenty-four of the most respectable citizens of Phila- 
delphia were named as trustees. In the choice of these, 
and in the formation of his plan, Franklin is said to 
have consulted chiefly with Thomas Hopkinson. Esq. 
Rev. Richard Peters, then secretary of the province, 
Tench Francis, Esq. attorney-general, and Dr. Phineas 
Bond. 

The following article shews a spirit of benevolence 
worthy of imitation ; and, for the honour of our city, we 
hope that it continues to be in force. 

" In case of the inability of the rector, or any mas- 
ter, (established on the foundation by receiving a cer- 
tain salary) through sickness, or any other natural in- 
firmity, whereby he may be reduced to poverty, the 
trustees shall have power to contribute to his support, 
in proportion to his distress and merit, and the stock in 
their hands." 

The last clause of the fundamental rules is expressed 
in language so tender nd benevolent, so truly parent- 
al, that it will do everlasting honour to the hearts and 
heads of the founders. 

** It is hoped and expected that the trustees will make 
it their pleasure, and in some degree their business, to 
visit the academy often ; to encourage and countenance 
the youth, countenance and assist the masters, and by 
all means in their power advance the usefulness and 
reputation of the design, that they will look on the 
students, as, in some measure, their ov^^n children, treat 
them with familiarity and affection ; and when they 
have behaved well, gone through their studies, and are 
to enter the world, they should zealously unite, and make 
all the interest that can be made, to promote and establish 
them, whether in business, offices, marriages, or any other 
thing for their advantage, preferable to all other persons 
whatsoever, even of equal merit.*' 



DR. FRANKLIN. 107 

The constitution being signed and made public, 
with the names of the gentlemen proposing themselves 
as trustees and founders, the design was so well appro- 
ved of by the public-spirited citizens of Philadelphia, 
that the sum of eight hundred pounds per annum, for 
five years was in the course of a few weeks subscribed 
for carrying the plan into execution ; and in the be- 
ginning of January following (viz. 1750) three of the 
schools were opened, namely, the Latin and Greek 
schools, the Mathematical, and the English schools. 
In pursuance of an article in the original plan, a school 
for educating sixty boys and thirty girls (in the char- 
ter since called the Charitable School) was opened, and 
amidst all the difficulties with which the trustees have 
struggled in respect to their funds, has still been conti- 
nued full for the space of forty years ; so that allowing 
three years education for each boy and girl admitted 
into it, which is the general rule, at least twelve hun- 
dred children have received in it the chief part of their 
education, who might otherwise, in a great measure 
have been left without the means of instruction. And 
many of those who have been thus educated, are now to 
be found amongst the most useful and reputable citizens 
of this state. 

The institution, thus successfully begun, continued 
daily to flourish, to the great satisfaction of Dr Frank- 
lin ; who, notwithstanding the multiplicity of his other 
engagements and pursuits at that busy stage of his life, 
was a constant attendant at the monthly visitations and 
examinations of the schools, and made it his particular 
study, by means of his extensive correspondence abroad, 
to advance the reputation of the seminary, and to draw 
students and scholars to it from different parts of Ame- 
rica and the West Indies. Through the interposition 
of his benevolent and learned friend, Peter Collinson, 
of London, upon the application of the trustees, a char- 
ter of incorporation, dated July 13, 1753, was obtain- 
ed from the honourable proprietors of Pennsylvania, 
Thomas Penn and Richard Penn, Esqrs. accompanied 
with a liberal benefaction of five hundred pounds ster- 



108 THE hlflE. OF 

ling ; and Dr. Franklin now began in gootl earnest to 
please himself with the hopes of a speedy acconriplish- 
ment of his original design, viz, the establishnnent of 
a perfect institution, upon the plan of the European 
colleges and universities ; for which his academy was 
intended as a nursery or foundation. To elucidate 
this fact, is a matter of considerable importance in re- 
spect to the memory and character of Dr. Franklin, as 
a philosopher, and as the friend and patron of learning 
and science ; for, notwithstanding what is expressly 
declared by him in the preamble to the constitutions, 
viz. that the academy was begun for " teaching the 
Latin and Greek languages, with all useful branches 
of the arts and sciences, suitable to the state of an in- 
fant country, and laying a foundation for posterity to 
erect a seminary of learning more extensive, and suit- 
able to their future circumstances;" yet it has been 
suggested of late, as upon Dr. Franklin's authority, 
that the Latin and Greek, or the dead langua.^es, are 
an in-'umbrance upon a scheme of liberal education, 
and that the ingrafting or founding a college, or more 
extensive seminary, upon his academy, was without 
his approbation or agency, and gave him discontent. 
If the reverse of this does not already appear, from 
what has been quoted above, the following letters will 
put the matter beyond dispute. They were written 
by him to a gentleman, who had at that time publish- 
ed the idea of a college, suited to the circumstances of 
a young country, (meaning New-York) a copy of which 
having been sent to Dr. Franklin for his opinion, gave 
rise to that correspondence which terminated about a 
year afterwards, in erecting the college upon the foun- 
dation of the academy, and establishing that gentleman 
at the head of both, where he still continues, after a 
period of thirty-six years, to preside with distinguished 
reputation. 

From these letters also, the state of the academy, at 
tha; time, will be seen. 



BR. FRANKLIN. 109 

Philadelphia^ Jjiril 19, 1753. 



Sir, 



I received your favour of the lltiv instant, with 
your new* piece on Education, which I shall carefully 
peruse, and give you my sentiments of it, as you de- 
sire, by next post. 

I believe the young gentlemen, your pupils, may be 
entertained and instructed here, in mathematics and 
philosophy, to satisfaction. Mr. Allisonf (who was 
educated at Glasgow) has been long accustomed to 
teach the latter, and Mr. Grew| the former ; and I 
think their pupils make great progress. Mr. Allison 
has the care of the Latin and Greek school, but as he 
has now three good assistants,!) he can very well afford 
some hours every day for the instruction of those who 
are engaged in higher studies. The mathematical 
school is pretty well furnished with instruments. The 
English library is a good one ; and we have belonging 
to it 'a middling apparatus for experimental philosophy, 
and purpose speedily to complete it. The Loganian 
library, one of the best collections in America, will 
shortly be opened ; so that neither books nor instru- 
ments will be wanting ; and as we are determined al- 
ways to give good salaries, we have reason to believe 
we may always have an opportunity of chusing good 
niasters ; upon which, indeed the success of the whole 
depends. We are obliged to you for your kind offers, 
in this respect, and when you are settled in England, 
Ave may occasionally make use of yoiir friendship and 
judgment. 

• General idea of the college of Marania. 

I The Rev. and learned Mr. Francis Allison, afterwards D. D. 
and vice-provost of the colleg^e. 

+ Mr, Theophilus Grew, afterwards professor of mathematics 
in the college. 

II Tlicse assistants were at that time Mr. Charles Thompson, 
late secretary of congress, Mr. Paul Jackson, and Mr. Jacob 
Duche. 

K 



no THE LIFE OF 

If it suits your pohveniency to visit Philadelphia be- 
fore your return to Europe, I shall be extremely glad 
to see and converse with you here, as well as to cor- 
respond with you after your settlement in England ; 
for an acquaintance and communication with men of 
learning, virtue and public spirit, is one of my greatest 
enjoyments. 

I do not know whether you ever happened to see the 
first proposals I made for erecting this academy. I send 
them inclosed. They had, (however imperfect) the de- 
sired success, b^ing followed by a subscription oifour 
thousand pounds^ towards carrying them into execu- 
tion. And as we are fond of receiving advice, and are 
daily improving by experience, I am in hopes we shall, 
in a few years, see a perfect institution, 

I am very respectfully, &c. 
B. FRANKLIN. 

Mr- W, Smithy Long-Island. 



Philadelphia, May, 3dy 17 S3, 
Sir, 

Mr. Peters has just now been with me, and we have 
compared notes on your new piece. We find nothing 
in the scheme of education, however excellent, but 
what is, in our opinion very practicable. The great 
difficulty will be to find the Aratus,* and other suita- 
ble persons, to carry it into execution : but such may 
be had if proper encouragement be given. We have 
both received great pleasure in the perusal of it. For 
my part, I know not when I have read a piece that has 
more affected me — so noble and just are the senti- 

* The name given to the principal or head of the ideal college, 
the system of education in which hath nevertheless been nearly 
realized or followed as a model, in the college and academy of Phi- 
ladelphia, and some other American seminaries, for some years 
past. 



»»R. FRANKLIN. Ill 

ments, so warm and animated the language ; yet as 
censure from your friends may be of more use, as well 
as more agreeable to you than praise, I ought to men- 
tion, that I wish you had omitted not only the quota- 
tion fi-om the review,*. which you are now justly dis- 
satisfied with, but those expressions of resentment 
against your adversaries, in pages 65 and 79. In such 
cases the noblest victory is obtained by neglect, and 
by shining on. 

Mr. Allen has been out of town these ten days ; but 
before he went he directed me to procure him six 
copies of your piece. Mr. Peters has taken ten. He 
purposed to have written to you ; but omits it, as he 
expects so soon to have the pleasure of seeing you 
here. He desires me to present his affectionate com- 
pliments to you, and to assure you that you will be 
very welcome to him. I shall only say, that you may 
depend on my doing all in my power to make your 
visit to Philadelphia agreeable to you. 

I am, Sec. 

B. FRANKLIN. 
Mr* Smith. 



Philadelphia Mv. ^ilth^ 1753. 
Dear sir. 

Having written to you fully via Bristol, I have now 
little to add. Matters relating to the academy remain 
in statu quo. The trustees would be glad to see a 
rector established there, but ihey dread entering into 
new engagements till they are out of debt ; and I have 

* The quotation alluded to (from the London Monthly Review 
for 1749) was judged to reflect too severely on the discipline and 
government of the English universities of Oxford and Cambridge, 
and was expunged from the following editions of this work. 



112 THE LIFE OF 

not yet got them wholly over to my opinion, that a 
good professor or teacher of the higher branches of 
learning would draw so many scholars as to pay great 
part, if not the whole of his salary. Thus, unless the 
proprietors (of the province) shall think fit to put the 
finishing hand to our institution, it must, I fear, wait 
some few years longer before it can arrive at that state 
of perfection, which to me it seems now capable of; 
and all the pleasure I promised to myself in seeing you 
settled among us vanishes into smoke. 

But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, that no en- 
deavours of his shall be wanting ; and he hopes, with 
the archbishop?« assistance to be able to prevail with 
our proprietors.* I pray God grant them success. 

My son presents his affectionate regards, with, dear 
sir, 

Yours, &c. 

B. FRANKLIN. 

P. S. I have not been favoured with a line from you 
since your arrival in England. 



Philadelphia April 18^^, 1754, 
Dear sir, 

I have had but one letter from you since your arri- 
val in England, which was a short one, via Boston, da- 
ted October 18th, acquainting me that you had writ- 



* Upon the application of archbishop Herring and P. GoUinson, 
esq. at Dr. Franklin's request, (aided by the letters of Mr. Allen 
and Mr. Peters) the hon. Thomas Penn, esq. subscribed an annual 
sum, and afterwards gave at least 50001. to the founding or en- 
grafting the college upon the academy. 



DR. FRAMKLIN. Ho 

ten largely by Capt. Davis — Davis was lost, and vv^ith 
him your letters, to my great disappointment. — Mes- 
nard and Gibbon have since arrived here, and I hear 
nothing from you. — My comfort is, an imagination 
that you only omit writing because you are coming, 
and purpose to tell me every thing viva voce. So not 
knowing whether this letter will reach you, and hoping 
either to see or hear from you by the Myrtilla, capt. 
Buddon*s ship, which is daily expected, I only add, that 
I am, with great esteem and affection, 

Yours, &;c. 

B. FRANKLIN. 
Afr. Smith, 



About a month after the date of this last letter, the 
gentleman to whom it was addressed arrived in Phila- 
delphia, and was immediately placed at the head of the 
seminary ; whereby Dr. Franklin, and the other trus- 
tees were enabled to prosecute their plan, for perfect- 
ing the institution, and opening the college upon the 
large and liberal foundation on which it now stands ; 
for which purpose they obtained their additional char- 
ter, dated May 27th, 1755. 

Thus far we it thought proper to exhibit in one 
view Dr. Franklin's services in the foundation and es- 
tablishment of this seminary. He soon afterwards 
embarked for England, in the public service of his 
country ; and having been generally employed abroad 
in the like service, for the greatest part of the remain- 
der of his life (as will appear in our subsequent ac- 
count of the same) he had but few opportunities of 
taking any further active part in the affairs of the se-* 
minary, until his final return in the year 1785, when he 
found its charters violated, and his ancient colleagues 
the original founders, deprived of their trust, by an act 
of the legislature, and although his own name had been 
inserted among the new trustees, yet he declined to 
K2 



114 THE LIFE OF 

take his seat among them, or any concern in the ma- 
nagement of their affairs, till the instituuon was re- 
stored by law to its original owners. He then assem- 
bled his old colleagues at his own house, and being 
chosen their president, all their future meetings were 
at his request, held there, till within a few months of 
his death, when with reluctance, and ai their desire, 
lest he might be too much injured by his attention 
to their business, he suffered them to meet at the col- 
lege. 

Franklin not only gave birth to many useful insti- 
tutions himself, but he was also instrumental in pro- 
moting those which had originated with other men. 
About the year 1752, an eminent physician of this 
city. Dr. Bond, considering the deplorable state of the 
poor, when visited with disease, conceived that idea of 
establishing an hospital. Notwithstanding very great 
exertions on his part, he was able to interest few peo- 
ple so far in the benevolent plan, as to obtain subscrip- 
tions from them. Unwilling that his scheme should 
prove abortive, he sought the aid of Franklin, who 
readily engaged in the business, both by using his in- 
fluence with his friends, and by stating the advantage- 
ous influence of the proposed institution in his paper. 
These efforts were attended with success. Considera- 
ble sums were subscribed ; but they were still short of 
what was necessary. Franklin now made another exer- 
tion. He applied to the assembly ; and, after some 
opposition obtained leave to bring in a bill, specifying 
that as soon as two thousand pounds were subscribed, 
the same sum should be drawn from the treasury by the 
speaker's warrant, to be applied to the purposes of the 
institution. The opposition, as the sum was granted 
upon a contingency which they supposed would never 
take place, were silent, and the bill passed. The friends 
of the plan now redoubled their efforts, to obtain sub- 
scriptions to the amount stated in the bill, and were 
soon successful. This was the foundation of the Penn- 
sylvania Hospital, (vhich, with the Bettering-house and 



DR. FRAKKLIK. 115 

Dispensary, bear ample testimony of the humanity of 
the citizens of Philadelphia. 

Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well in the 
office of post-master, and had shown himself to be so 
well acquainted with the business of that department, 
that it was thought expedient to raise him to a more 
dignified station. In 1753 he was appointed deputy 
post-master-general for the British colonies. The pro- 
fits arising from the postage of letters, formed no incon* 
siderable part of the revenue, which the crown of Great 
Britain derived from the colonies. In the hands of Frank- 
lin, it is said, that the post-office in America yielded 
annually thrice as much as that of Ireland. 

The American colonies were much exposed to de- 
predations on their frontiers, by the Indians; and more 
particularly whenever war took place between France 
and England. The colonies, individually, were either 
too weak to take efficient measures for their own de- 
fence, or they were unwilling to take upon themselves 
the whole burden of erecting forts and maintaining 
garrisons, whilst their neighbours, who partook equally 
with themselves of the advantages, contributed no- 
thing to the expence. Sometimes also the disputes, 
which subsisted between the governors and assemblies, 
prevented the adoption of means of defence ; as we 
have seen was the case in Pennsylvania in 1745. To 
devise a plan of union between the colonies, to regu- 
late this and other matters, appeared a desirable ob- 
ject. To accomplish this, in the year 1754, commis- 
sioners from New-Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode- 
Island, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, met 
at Albany. Dr. Franklin attended here, as a com- 
missioner from Pennsylvania, and produced a plan, 
which, from the place of meeting, has been usually 
termed " The Albany Plan of Union." This pro- 
posed, that application should be made for an act of 
parliament, to establish in the colonies a general go- 
vernment, to be administered by a president-general, ap« 
pointed, by the crown, and by a grand council, con- 
sisting of members chosen by the representatives of the 



116 THE LIFE OF 

different colonics ; their number to be in direct propor- 
tion to the sums paid by each colony into the general 
treasury, with this restriction, that no colony should 
have more than seven, nor less than two representatives. 
The whole executive authority was committed to the 
president-general. The power of legislation was lodg- 
ed in the grand council and president-general jointly ; 
his consent being made necessary to passing a bill into 
a law. The power vested in the president and council 
were, to declare war and peace, and to conclude trea- 
ties with the Indian nations ; to regulate trade with, 
and to make purchases of vacant lands from them, either 
in the name of the crown, or of the union : to settle 
new colonies, to make laws for governing these until 
they should be erected into separate governments, and 
to raise troops, build forts, fit out armed vessels, and use 
other means for the general defence : and, to effect 
these things, a power was given to make laws laying 
such duties, imposts, or taxes, as they should find ne- 
cessary, and as would be least burdensome to the peo- 
ple. All laws were to be sent to England for the 
king's approbation ; and unless disapproved of within 
three years, were to remain in force. All officers in 
the land or sea service where to be nominated by the 
president-general, and approved of by the general 
council ; civil officers were to be nominated by the 
council, and approved by the president. Such are the 
outlines of the plan proposed, for the consideration of 
the congress, by Dr. Franklin. After several days, dis- 
cussion, it was unanimously agreed to by the commis- 
sioners, a copy transmitted to each assembly, and one 
to the king's council. The fate of it was singular. 
It was disapproved of by the ministry of Great Britain, 
because it gave too much power to the representatives 
of the people ; and it was rejected by every assembly, as 
giving to the president-general, the representative of 
the crown, an influence greater than appeared to them 
proper, in a plan of government intended for freemen. 
Perhaps this rejection, on both sides, is the strongest 
proof that could be adduced of the excellence of it, as 



DR. FRANKLIN. 117 

suited to the situation of America and Great Britain at 
that time. It appears to have steered exactly in the 
middle, between the opposite interests of both. 

Whether the adoption of this plan would have pre- 
vented the separation of America from Great Britain, 
is a question which might afford much room for specula- 
tion It may be said, that, by enabling the colonies to 
defend themselves, it would have removed the pretext 
upon which the stamp-act, tea-act, and other acts of the 
British parliament, were passed ; which excited a spirit 
of opposition, and laid the foundation for the separation 
of the two countries. But, on the other hand, it must 
be admitted, that the restriction laid by Great Britain 
upon our commerce, obliging us to sell our produce to 
her citizens only, and to take from them various articled, 
of which, as our manufactures were discouraged, we 
stood in need, at a price greater than that for which they 
could have been obtained from other nations, must in- 
evitably produce dissatisfaction, even though no duties 
were imposed by the parliament : a circumstance which 
might still have taken place Besides, as the president- 
general was to be appointed by the crown, he must, 
of necessity, be devoted to its views, and would, there- 
fore, refuse his assent to any laws, however salutary 
to the community, which had the most remote ten- 
dency to injure the interests of his sovereign. Even 
should they receive his assent, the approbation of the 
king was to be necessary; who would indubitably, in 
every instance, prefer the advantage of his home do- 
minions to that of his colonies. Hence would ensue 
perpetual disagreements between the council and the 
president-general, and thus, between the people of Ame- 
rica and the crown of Gre it Britain : While the colo- 
nies continued weak, they would be obliged to submit, 
and as soon as they acquired strength they would be- 
come more urgent in their demands, until, at length, 
they would shake off the yoke, and declare themselves 
independent. 

Whilst the French were in possession of Canada, their 
trade with the natives extended very far ; even to the 



118 THE tiFE OF 

back of the British settlements. They were disposed, 
from time to time, to establish posts within the territo- 
ry, which the British claimed as their own. Indepen- 
dent of the injury to the fur trade* which was consider- 
able, the colonies suffered this further inconvenience, 
that the Indians were requently instigated to commit 
depredations on their frontiers. In the year 1753 en- 
croachments were made upon the boundaries of Vir- 
ginia. Remonstrances had no effect In the ensuing 
year, a body of men were sent out under the command 
of Mr Washington, who, though a very young man, 
had, by his conduct in the preceding year, shown him- 
self worthy of such an important trust. Whilst march- 
ing to take possession of the post at the junction of the 
Allegany and Monongahela, he was informed that the 
French had already erected a fort there. A detach- 
ment of their men marched against him. He fortified 
himself as strongly as time and circumstances would 
permit. A superiority of numbers soon obliged him 
to surrender Fort Necessity He obtained honourable 
terms for himself and men. and returned to Virginia. 
The government of Great Briti'in now thought it ne- 
cessary to interfere In the yetir 1755, general Brad- 
dock, with some regiments of regular troops, and pro- 
vincial levies, was sent to dispossess the French of the 
posts upon which they had seized. After the men were 
all ready, a difficulty occurred, which had nearly pre- 
vented the expedition. This was the want of waggons. 
Franklin now stepped forward, and with the assistance 
of his son, in a little time procured an hundred and 
fifty. Braddock unfortunately fell into an ambuscade, 
and perished, with a number of his men. Washing- 
ton, who had accompanied him as an aid-de-camp and 
had warned him in vain of his danger, now displayed 
great military talents in effecting a retreat of the re- 
mains of the army, and forming a junction with the 
rear, under colonel Dunbar, upon whom the chief com- 
mand now devolved. With some difficulty they brought 
their little body to a place of safety ; but they found 
it necessary to destroy their waggons and baggage 



DR. franklin; 119 

to prevent their falling into the hands of the ene- 
my. For the waggons which he had furnished, Frank- 
lin had given bonds to a large amount. The owners 
declared their intentions of obliging him to make a 
restitution of their property. Had they put their 
threats in execution, ruin must inevitably have been 
the consequence. Governor Shirley, finding' that he 
had incurred these debts for the service of government} 
made arrangements to have them discharged, and re- 
leased Franklin from his disagreeablo situation. 

The alarm spread through the colonies, after the de- 
feat of Briddock, was very great. Preparations to arm 
were every where made. In Pennsylvania, the preva- 
lence of the quaker interest prevented the adoption of 
any system of defence which would compel the citizens 
to bear arms. Franklin introduced into the assembly a 
bill for organizing a militia, by which every man was 
allowed to take arms or not, as to him should appear fit. 
The quakers, being thus left at liberty, suffered the bill 
to pass ; for although their principles would not suffer 
them to fight, they had no objections to their neighbours 
fighting for them. In consequence of this act a very 
respectable militia was formed. The sense df impend- 
ing danger, infused a military spirit in all whose religious 
tenets were not opposed to war. Franklin was appoint- 
ed colonel of a regiment in Philadelphia, which consist- 
ed of 1200 men. 

The north-western frontier being invaded by the ene- 
my, it became necessary to adopt measures for its de- 
fence. Franklin was directed by the governor to take 
charge of this business. A power of raising men, and 
of appointing officers to command them, was vested in 
him. He soon levied a body of troops, with which he 
repaired to the place at which their presence was ne- 
cessary. Here he built a fort, and placed the garrison 
in such a posture of defence, as would enable them to 
withstand the inroads to which the inhabitants had pre- 
viously been exposed. He remained here for some time, 
in order the more completely to discharge the trust 



120 THE LITE OF 

committed to him* Some business of importance ren- 
dered his presence necessary in the assembly, and he 
returned to Philadelphia. 

The defence of her colonies was a great expense to 
Great Britain. The most effectual mode of lessening 
this was, to put arms into the hands of the inhabitants 
and to teach them their use. But England wished not 
that the Americans should become acquainted with their 
own strength. See was apprehensive, that, as soon as 
this period arrived, they would no longer submit to that 
monopoly of their trade, which to them was highly inju- 
rious, but extremely advantageous to the mother coun- 
try. In comparison with the profits of this, the expense 
of maintaining armies and fleets to defend them was tri- 
fling. She sought to keep them dependent upon her 
for protection, the best plan which could be devised for 
retaining them in peaceable subjection. The least ap- 
pearance of a military spirit was therefore to be guarded 
against, and, although a war then raged, the act organi- 
aing a militia was disapproved of by the ministry. The 
regiments which had been formed under it were dis- 
banded, and the defence of the province entrusted to re- 
gular troops. 

The disputes between the proprietaries and the peo- 
ple continued in full force, although a war was raging 
on the frontiers. Not even the sense of danger was 
sufficient to reconcile, for ever so short a time, their 
jarring interests. The assembly still insisted upon the 
justice of taxing the proprietary estates, but the go- 
vernors constantly refused to give their assent to this 
measure, without which no bill could pass into a law. 
Enraged at the obstinacy, and what they conceived to 
be unjust proceedings of their opponents, the assembly 
at length determined to apply to the mother country 
for relief. A petition was addressed to the king, in coun- 
cil, stating the inconveniences under which the inha- 
bitants laboured, from the attention of the proprietaries 
to their private interests, to the neglect of the gene- 
ral welfare of the community, and praying for redress. 
Franklin was appointed to present this address, as agent 



DR. FRANKLIN. 131 

for the province of Pennsylvania, and departed from 
America in June 1757. In conformity to the instruc- 
tions which he had received from the legislature, held 
a conference with the proprietaries, who then resided 
in England, and endeavoured to prevail upon them to 
give up the long-contested point. Finding that they 
Avould hearken to no terms of accommodation, he laid 
his petition to the council. During this time governor 
Denny assented to a law imposing a tax, in which no 
discrimination was made in favour of the estates of the 
Penn family. They, alarmed at this intelligence, and 
Franklin's exertions, used their utmost exertions to pre- 
vent the royal sanction being given to this law, which 
they represented as highly iniquitous, designed to throw 
the burden of supporting government on them, and cal- 
culated to produce the most ruinous consequences to 
them and their posterity. The cause was amply dis- 
cussed before the privy councils. The Penns found 
here some strenuous advocates ; nor were there wanting 
some who warmly espoused the side of the people. Af- 
ter some time spent in debate, a proposal was made, that 
Franklin should solemnly engage, that the assessment 
of the tax should be so made, as that the proprietary 
estates should pay no more than a due proportion. This 
he agreed to perform, the Penn family withdrew their 
opposition, and tranquility was thus once more restored 
to the province. 

The mode ia which this dispute was determined is a 
striking proof of the high opinion entertained of Frank- 
lin's integrity and honour, even by those who consider- 
ed him as inimical to their views. Nor was their confi- 
dence ill founded. The assessment was made upon the 
strictest principles of equity ; and the proprietary estates 
bore only a proportionable share of the expenses of sup- 
porting government. 

After the completion of this important business, 
Franklin remained at the court of Great Britain, as 
agent for the province of Pennsylvania. The exten- 
sive knowledge which he possessed of the situation of 
the colonies, and the regard which he always manifest- 

L 



1^2 THE LIFE O? 

ed for their interests, occasioned his appointment to xhe 
same office by the colonies of Massachusetts, Mary- 
land, and Georgia. His conduct, in this situation, 
-was such as rendered him still more dear to his country- 
men. 

He had now an opportunity of indulging in the socie- 
ty of those friends, whom his merits had procured him 
while at a distance. The regard which they had enter- 
tained for him was rather increased by a personal ac- 
quaintance. The opposition which had been made to 
his discoveries in philosophy gradually ceased, and, the 
rewards of literary merit were abundantly conferred 
upon him. The Royal Society of London, which had 
at first refused his performances admission into its trans- 
actions, now thought it an honour to rank him among 
its fellows. Other societies of Europe were equally 
ambitious of calling him a member. The university of 
St. Andrew's, in Scotland, conferred upon him the de- 
gree of Doctor of Laws. Its example was followed by 
the universities of Edinburgh and of Oxford. His cor- 
respondence was sought for by the most eminent phi- 
losophers of Europe. His letters to these abound with 
true science, delivered in the most simple unadorned 
manner. 

The province of Can'^da was at this time in the pos- 
session of the French, who had originally settled it. 
The trade with the Indians, for which its situation 
was very convenient, was exceedingly lucrative. The 
French traders^ here found a market for their commo- 
dities, and received in return large quantities of rich 
furs, which they disposed of at a high price in Europe. 
Whilst the possession of this country was highly advan- 
tageous to France, it was a grievous inconvenience to 
the inhabitants of the British colonies. The Indians 
were almost generally desirous to cultivate the friend- 
ship of the French, by whom they were abundantly 
supplied with arms and ammunition. Whenever a war 
happened, the Indians were ready to fall upon the fron- 
tiers; and this they frequently did, even when Great 
Britain and rrance were at peace. From these con- 



»R. FRANKLIN. 128 

siderations, it appeared (to be the interest of Great 
Britain to gain the possession of Canada. But the 
importance of such an acquisition was not well under- 
stood in England. Franklin about this time published 
his Canada pamphlet, in which he, in a very forcible ^ 
manner, pointed out the advantages which would re- 
suit from the conquest of this province. 

An expedition against it was planned, and the com- 
mand given to General Wolfe. His success is well 
known. At the treaty of 176?, France ceded Canada 
to Great Britain, and by her cession of Louisiana, at 
the same time, relinquished all her possessions on the 
continent of America. 

Although Dr. Franklin was now principally occupi- 
ed with political pursuits, he found time for philoso- 
phical studies. He extended his electrical researches, 
and made a variety of experiments, particularly on the 
tourmalin. The singular properties which this stone 
possesses of being electrified on one side positively, 
and on the other negatively, by heat alone, without 
friction, had been bul lately observed. 

Some experiments on the cold produced by evapora- 
tion, made by Dr. Cullen, had been communicated to 
Dr. Franklin by Professor Simpson of Glasgow. These 
he repeated, and found that, by the evaporation of 
ether in the exhausted receiver of an air-pump, so 
great a degree of cold was produced in a summer's 
day, that water was converted into ice. This discovery 
he applied to the solution of a number of phenomena, 
particularly a singular fact, which philosophers had 
endeavoured in vain to account for, viz. that the tem- 
perature of the human body, when in health, never ex- 
ceeds 96 degrees of Farenheit's thermometer, although 
the atmosphere which surrounds it may be heated to a 
much greater degree. This he attributed to the in- 
creased perspiration, and consequent evaporation, pro- 
duced by the heat. 

In a letter to Mr. Small of London, dated in May 
1760, Dr. Franklin makes a number of observations, 
tending to shew that, in North America, north-east 



i24 THE LIFE OF 

Storms begin in the south-west parts. It appears, from 
actual observation, that a north-east storm, which ex- 
tended a considerable distance, commenced in Phila- 
delphia nearly four hours before it was felt at Boston. 
He endeavoured to account for this, by supposing that, 
from heat, some rarefaction takes place about the gulf 
of Mexico, that the air further north being cooler 
rushes in, and is succeeded by the cooler and denser 
air still further north, and that thus a continued current 
is at length produced. 

The tone produced by rubbing the brim of a drink- 
ing glass with a wet finger had been generally known. 
A Mr. Puckeridge, an Irishman, by placing on a table 
a number of glasses of different sizes, and tuning them 
by partly filling them with water, endeavoured to form 
an instrument capable of playing tunes. He was pre- 
vented by an untimely end, from bringing his inven- 
tion to any degree of perfection. After his death 
some improvements were made upon his plan. The 
sweetness of the tones induced Dr. Franklin to make 
a variety of experiments ; and he at length formed 
that elegant instrument which he has called the Ar- 
monica. 

In the summer of 1752 he returned to America.— 
On his passage he observed the singular effect pro- 
duced by the agitation of a vessel, containing oil float- 
ing on water. The surface of the oil remains smooth 
and undisturbed, whilst the water is agitated with the 
utmost commotion. No satisfactory explanation of this 
appearance, has we believe, ever been given. 

Dr. Franklin received the thanks of the assembly of 
Pennsylvania, *' as well for the faithful discharge of 
his duty to that province in particular, as for the many 
and important services done to America in general, 
during his residence in Great-Britain." A compensa- 
tion of 50001. Pennsylvania currency, was also decreed 
him for his services during six years. 

During his absence he had been annually elected 
member of the assembly. On his return to Pcnnsyl- 



DR. FRANKLIN. 125 

vania he again took his seat in this body, and continu- 
ed a steady defender of the liberties of the people. 

In December 1762, a circumstance which caused 
great alarm in the province took place. A number 
of Indians had resided in the county of Lancaster, and 
conducted themselves uniformly as friends to the white 
inhabitants. Repeated depredations on the frontiers 
had exasperated the inhabitants to such a degree, that 
they determined on revenge upon every Indian. A 
number of persons, to the amount of 120, principally 
inhabitants of Donnegal and Peckstang or Paxton 
townships, in the county of York, assembled ; and, 
mounted on horseback, proceeded to the settlement of 
these harmless and defenceless Indians, whose number 
had now reduced to about twenty. The Indians re- 
-ceived intelligence of the attack which was intended 
against them, but disbelieved it. Considering the 
white people as their friends, they apprehended no dan- 
ger from them. When the party arrived at the Indi- 
an settlement, they found only some women and chil. 
dren, and a few old men, the rest being absent at work. 
They murdered all whom they found, and amongst 
others the chief Shahaes, who had been always distin- 
guished for his friendship to the whites. This bloody 
deed excited much indignation in the well disposed 
part of the community. 

The remainder of these unfortunate Indians, who, 
by absence, had escaped the massacre, were conducted 
to Laneaster, and lodged in the gaol, as a place of se- 
curity. The governor issued a proclamation, expres- 
ing the strongest disapprobation of the action, offering 
a reward for the discovery of the perpetrators of the 
A deed, and prohibiting all injuries to the peaceable In- 
*dians in future. But, notwithstanding this, a party 
of the same men shortly after marched to Lancaster, 
broke open the gaol, and inhumanly butchered the in- 
nocent Indians who had been placed there for security 
Another proclamation was issued, but had no effect. 
A detachment marched down to Philadelphia, for the 
express purpose of murdering some friendly Indians 
L2 



136 THE LIFE OF 

who had been removed to the city for safety. A num« 
ber of the citizens armed in their defence. The Qua* 
kers, whose principles are opposed to fighting, even in 
their own defence, were most active upon this occa- 
sion. The rioters came to Germantown. The gover- 
nor fled for safety to the house of Dr. Franklin, who, 
with some others, advanced to meet the Paxton boys, 
as they were called, and had influence enough to pre- 
vail upon them to relinquish their undertaking, and re- 
turn to their homes. 

The disputes between the proprietaries and the as- 
sembly, which for a time, had subsided, were again 
revived. The proprietaries were dissatisfied with the 
concessions made in favour of the people, and made 
great struggles to recover the privilege of exempting 
their estates from taxation, which they had been indu- 
ced to give up. 

In 1763 the assembly passed a militia bill, to which 
the governor refused to give his assent, unless the as- 
sembly would agree to certain amendments which he 
proposed. These consisted in increasing the fines, and, 
in some cases, substituting death for fines. He wished 
too that the officers should be appointed altogether, by 
himself, and not be nominated by the people, as the 
bill had proposed. These amendments the assembly 
considered as inconsistent with the spirit of liberty.— 
They would not adopt them ; the governor was obsti- 
nate, and the bill was lost. 

These and various other circumstances, increased 
the uneasiness which subsisted between the proprieta- 
ries and the assembly to such a degree, that, in 1764, a 
petition to the king was agreed to by the house, pray- 
ing an alteration from a firofirietary to a regal govern-J 
ment. Great opposition was made to this measure, n 
only in the house, but in the public prints. A speech 
of Mr Dickenson, on the subject was published, with 
a preface by Dr. Smith, in which great pains were 
taken to shew the impropriety and impolicy of this pro- 
ceeding. A speech of Mr. Galloway, in reply to 
Mr. Dickenson, was published, accompanied with a 



DR. FRANKLXHr: 137 

preface by Dr. Franklin ; in which he ably opposed the 
principles laid down in the preface to Mr. Dicken- 
son's speech) This application to the throne produced 
no effect. The proprietary government was still con- 
tinued. 

At the election for a new assembly, in the fall of 
1764, the friends of the proprietaries made great ex- 
ertions to exclude those of the adverse party, and ob- 
tained a small majority in the city of Philadelphia. 
Franklin now lost his seat in the house, which he had 
held for fourteen years. On the meeting of the as- 
sembly, it appeared that there was still a decided majo- 
rity of Franklin's friends. He was immediately ap- 
pointed provincial agent, to the great chagrin of his 
enemies, who made a solemn protest against his ap- 
pointment ; which was refused admission upon the mi- 
nutes, as being unprecedented. It was, however, pub- 
lished in the papers, and produced a spirited reply from 
him just before his departure for England. 

The disturbances produced in America by Mr. Gren- 
ville's stamp- act, and the opposition made to it, are 
well known. Under the marquis of Rockingham's ad- 
ministration, it appeared expedient to endeavour to 
calm the minds of the colonists ; and the repeal of the 
odious tax was contemplated. Amongst other means 
of collecting information on the disposition of the peo- 
ple to submit to it, Dr. Franklin was called to the bar 
of the house of commons. The examination which 
he here underwent was published, and contains a stri- 
king proof of the extent and accuracy of his informa- 
tion, and the facility with which he communicated his 
sentiments. He represented facts in so strong a point 
of view, that the inexpediency of the act must have 
appeared clear to every unprejudiced mind. The act 
after some opposition, was repealed, about a year after 
it was enacted, and before it had ever been carried into 
execution. 

In the year 1766, he made a visit to Holland and 
Germany, and received the greatest marks of attention 
from men of science. In his passage through Holland, 



128 THE LIFE OF 

he learned from the watermen the effect which a dimlr 
nution of the quantity of water in canals has, in impe- 
ding the progress of boats. Upon his return to Eng- 
land, he was led to make a number of experiments ; 
all of which tended to confirm the observation. Thesei 
with an explanation of the phenomenon, he commu- 
nicated in a letter to his friend, sir John Pringle, which 
is contained in the volume of his philosophical pieces. 

In the following year he travelled into France, 
where he met with a no less favourable reception than 
he had experienced in Germany. He was introduced 
to a number of literary characters, and to the King, 
Louis XV. 

Several letters written by Hutchinson, Oliver, and 
others, to persons in eminent stations in Great Britain, 
came into the hands of Dr. Franklin. 

These contained the most violent invectives against 
the leading characters of the state of Massachusetts, and 
strenuously advised the prosecution of vigorous mea- 
sures, to compel the people to obedience to the measures 
of the ministry. These he transmitted to the legisla- 
ture, by whom they were published. Attested copies 
of them were sent to Great Britain, with an address, 
praying the king to discharge from office persons who 
had rendered themselves so obnoxious to the people, 
and who had shown themselves so unfriendly to their 
interests. 

The publication of these letters produced a duel be- 
tween Mr. Whately and Mr. Temple ; each of whom 
was suspected of having been instrumental in procuring 
them. To prevent any further disputes on this subject, 
Dr. Franklin, in one of the public papers, declared that 
he had sent them to America, but would give no infor- 
mation concerning the manner in which he had obtained 
them ; nor was this ever discovered. 

Shortly after, the petition of the Massachusetts as- 
sembly was taken up for examination, before the privy 
council. Dvi Franklin attended, as agent for the as- 
sembly ; and here a torrent of the most violent and un- 



DR. FRANKLIN. 129 

warranted abuse was poured upon him by the solicitor- 
general, Wedderburne, who was engaged as council for 
Oliver and Hutchinson. The petition was declared 
to be scandalous and vexatiouS) and the prayer of it 
refused. 

Although the parliament of Great Britain had re- 
pealed the stamp-act, it was only upon the principle 
of expediency. They still insisted upon their right to 
tax the colonies ; and, at the same time that the stamp- 
act was repealed, an act was passed, declaring the 
right of parliament to bind the colonies in all cases 
whatsoever. This language was used even by the most 
strenuous opposers of the stamp-act ; and, amongst 
others, by Mr. Pitt. This right was never recognized 
by the colonists ; but, as they flattered themselves that 
it would not be exercised, they were not very active 
in remonstrating against it. Had this pretended right 
been suffered to remain dormant, the colonists would 
cheerfully have furnished their quota of supplies, in the 
mode to which they had been accustomed : that is, by 
acts of their own assemblies, in consequence of requi- 
sitions from the secretary of state. If this practice 
had been pursued, such was the disposition of the co- 
lonies towards the mother country, that, notwithstand- 
ing the disadvantages under which they laboured, from 
restraints upon their trade, calculated solely for the 
benefit of the commercial and manufacturing interests 
of Great Britain, a separation of the two countries 
might have been a far distant event. The Americans, 
from their earliest infancy, were taught to venerate 
a people from whom they were descended f whose 
language, laws and manners were the same as their 
own. They looked up to them as models of perfec- 
tion ; and, in their prejudiced minds, the most enlight- 
ened nations of Europe were considered as almost bar- 
barians, in comparison with Englishmen. The name 
of an Englishman conveyed to an American the idea 
of every thing good and great. Such sentiments in- 
stilled into them in early life, what but a repetition 
of unjust treatment could have induced them to enter-t 



1$0 THE LIFB OS 

tain the most distant thought of separation ! Tho du- 
ties on glass, paper, leather, painters' colours, tea, &c. 
the disfranchisement of some of the colonies ; the 
obstruction to the measures of the legislature, in 
others, by the king's governors; the contemptuous 
treatment of their humble remonstrances, stating their 
grievances, and praying a redress of them, and other 
violent and oppressive measures, at length excited an ar- 
dent spirit of opposition. Instead of endeavouring to 
allay this by a more lenient conduct, the ministry 
seemed resolutely bent upon reducing the colonies to 
the most slavish obedience to their decrees. But thi^ 
tended only to aggravate. Vain w^ere all the efforts 
made use of to prevail upon them to lay aside their 
designs, to convince them of the impossibility of carry- 
ing them into effect, and of the mischievous conse- 
quences which must ensue from a continuance of the 
attempt. They persevered, with a degree of inflexi- 
bility scarcely paralleled. 

The advantages which Great Britain derived from 
her colonies were so great, that nothing but a degree 
of infatuation, little short of madness, could havf pro- 
duced a continuance of measures calculated to keep up 
a spirit of uneasiness, which mi,%ht occasion the slight- 
est wish for a separation. When we consider the great 
improvements in the science of government, the gene- 
ral diffusion of the principles of liberty amongst the 
people of Europe, the effects which these have already 
produced in France, and the probable consequences 
which will result from them elsewhere, all of which 
are the offspring of the American revolution, it can- 
not but appear strange, that events of so great mo- 
ment to the happiness of mankind, should have been 
ultimately occasioned by the wickedness or ignorance 
of a British ministry. 

Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to prevail upon 
the ministry to consent to a change of measures. In 
private conversations, and in letters to persons in go- 
vernment, he continually expatiated upon the impoli- 
cy and injustice of their conduct towards America ; and 
stated, that notwithstanding the attachment of the 



DR. FRANKLIN. ISl 

colonists to the mother country, a repetition of ill treat- 
ment must ultimately alienate their affections. They 
listened not to his advice. They blindly persevered in 
their own schemes, and left to the colonists no alterna- 
tive, but opposition or unconditional submission. The 
latter accorded not with the principles of freedom, which 
they had been taught to revere. To the former they 
were compelled, though reluctantly, to have recourse. 

Dr. Franklin, finding all efforts to restore harmony 
between Great Britain and her colonies useless, return- 
ed to America in the year 1775 ; just after the com- 
mencement of hostilities. The day after his return 
he was elected by the legislature of Pennsylvania a 
member of congress. Not long after his election a 
committee was appointed, consisting of Mr. Lynchj 
Mr. Harrison, and himself, to visit the camp of Cam- 
bridge, and, in conjunction with the commander in 
chief, to endeavour to convince the troops, whose term 
of enlistment was about to expire, of the necessity of 
their continuing in the field, and persevering in the 
cause of their country. 

In the fall of the same year he visited Canada, to 
endeavour to unite them in the common cause of li- 
berty ; but they could not be prevailed upon to oppose 
the measures of the British government. M. Le Roy, in 
a letter annexed to Abbe Fauchet*s eulogium of Dr. 
Franklin, states, that the ill success of this negociation 
was occasioned, in a great degree, by religious animosi- 
ties, which subsisted between the Canadians and their 
neighbours ; some of whom had at different times burnt 
their chapels. 

When Lord Howe came to America, in 1776, vest- 
ed with power to treat with the colonists, a correspon- 
dence took place between him and Dr. Franklin, on 
the subject of a reconciliation. Dr. Franklin was af- 
terwards appointed, together with John Adams and 
Edward Rulledge, to wait upon the commissioners, in 
order to learn the extent of their power. These were 
found to be only to grant pardons upon submission. 



132 THE LIFE OF 

These were terms which would not be excepted ; and 
the object of the commissioners could not be obtained. 

The momentous question of Independence was short- 
ly after brought into view ; at a time when the fleets 
and armies, which were sent to enforce obedience, 
were truly formidable. With an army, numerous in- 
deed, but ignorant of discipline, and entirely unskilled 
in the art of war, without money, without a fleet, with- 
out allies, and with nothing but the love of liberty to 
support them, the colonists determined to separate from 
a country from which they had experienced a repeti- 
tion of injury and insult. In this question. Dr. Frank- 
lin was decidedly in favour of the measure proposed, 
and had great influence in bringing over others to his 
sentiments. 

The public mind had been pretty fully prepared for 
this event, by Mr. Paine's celebrated pamphlet, Common 
Sense, There is good reason to believe that Dr. Frank- 
lin had no inconsiderable share, at least, in furnishing 
materials for this work. 

In the convention which assembled at Philadelphia 
in 1776, for the purpose of establishing a new form of 
government for the state of Pennsylvania, Dr. Frank- 
lin was chosen president. The late constitution of this 
state, which was the result of their deliberations, may 
be considered as a digest of his principles of govern- 
ment. The single legislature, and the plural execu- 
live, seem to have been his favourite tenets. 

In the latter end of 1776, Dr. Franklin was ap- 
pointed to assist in the negociations which had been 
set on foot by Silas Deane at the court of France. A 
conviction of the advantages of a commercial inter- 
course with America, and a desire of weakening the 
British empire by dismembering it, first induced the 
French court to listen to proposals of an alliance. 
But they shewed rather a reluctance to the measure, 
which, by Dr. Franklin's address, and particularly by 
the success of the American arms against general Bur- 
goyne, was at length overcome ; and in February 1778, 
a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive-, was con- 



])R« FRANKLIK. 133 

pltided; in consequence of which France became involv- 
ed in the war with Great Britain. 

Perhaps no person could have been found more capa- 
ble of rendering essential services to the United States 
at the court of France, than Dr. Franklin. He was 
well known as a philosopher, and his character was 
held in the highest estimation. He was received with 
the greatest marks of respect by all the literary cha- 
racters ; and this respect was extended amongst all 
classes of men. His personal influence was hence very 
considerable. To the effects of this were added those 
of various performances which he published, tending to 
establish the credit and character of the United States. 
To his exertions in this way; may, in no small degree, 
be ascribed the success of the. loans negociatedin Hol- 
land and France, which greatly contributed to bringing 
the war to a happy conclusion. 

The repeated ill success of their arms, and more 
particularly the capture of Cornwallis and his army, at 
length convinced the British nation of the impossibility 
of reducing the Americans to subjection. The tra- 
ding interest particularly became very clamorous for 
peace. The ministry were unable longer to oppose 
their wishes. Provincial articles of peace were agreed 
to, and signed at Paris on the 30th of November, 
1782 by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and 
Mr. Laurens, on the part of the United States ; and 
by Mr. Oswald on the part of Great Britain. These 
formed the basis of the definitive treaty, which was con- 
cluded the 30th of September 1783, and signed by Dr- 
Franklin, Mr. Adams, and Mr. Jay, on the one part, and 
by Mr. David Hartley on the other. 

On the 3d of April 1783, a treaty of amity and 
commerce, between the United States and Sweden, was 
concluded at Paris, by Dr. Franklin and the Count Von 
Krutz. 

A similar treaty with Prussia was concluded in 
1785, not long before Dr. Franklin's departure from 
Europe. 

M 



134 THE LIFE OF 

Dr. Franklin did not suffer his political pursuits to 
engross his whole attention. Sortie of his perform- 
ances made their appearance in Paris. The object of 
these was generally the promotion of industry and ceco- 
nomy. 

In the year 1784, when animal magnetism made 
great noise in the world, particularly at Paris, it was 
thought a matter of such importance, that the king 
appointed commissioners to examine into the founda- 
tion of this pretended science. Dr. Franklin was one 
of the number. After a fair and diligent examination, 
in the course of which Mesmer repeated a number of 
experiments, in the presence of the commissioners, 
some of which were tried upon themselves, they deter- 
mined that it was a mere trick, intended to impose 
upon the ignorant and credulous— Mesmer was thus 
interrupted in his career to wealth and fame, and a most 
insolent attempt to impose upon the human understand- 
ing baffled. 

The important ends of Dr. Franklin's mission being 
completed by the establishment of American independ- 
ence, and infirmities of age and disease coming upon 
him, he became desirous of returning to his native 
country. Upon application to congress to be recalled, 
Mr. Jefferson was appointed to succeed him, in 1783. 
Sometime in September of the same year, Dr. Frank- 
lin arrived in Philadelphia. He was shortly after 
chosen member of the supreme executive council for 
the city ; and soon after was elected president of the 
same. 

When a convention was called to meet in Philadel- 
phia, in 1787, for the purpose of giving more energy 
to the government of the union by revising and amend- 
ing the articles of confederation. Dr. Franklin was 
appointed a delegate from the State of Pennsylvania. 
He signed the constitution which ihey proposed for the 
union, and gave it the most unequivocal marks of his 
approbation. 

A society for political enquiries, of which Dr. Frank- 
lin was president, was established^bout this period.— 



DR. FRANKLIN.! 155 

The meetings were held at his house. Two or three 
essays read in the society were published. It did not 
long continue. 

In the year 1787, two societies were established in 
Philadelphia, founded on principles of the most liberal 
and refined humanity — the Philadelfihia Society for aU 
Icviating the miseries of public prisons ; and the Penn- 
sylvania Society for promoting the abolition of slavery<^ 
the relief of free negroes unlawfully held in bondage, 
and the improvement of the condition of the African 
race. Of each of these Dr. Franklin was president. 
The labours of these bodies have been crowned 'with 
great success ; and they continue to prosecute, with 
unwearied diligence, the laudable designs for which 
they were instituted. 

^ Dr. Franklin's increasing infirmities prevented his 
regular attendance in the council-chamber ; and, in 
1788, he retired wholly from public life. 

His constitution had been a remarkable good one. 
He had been little subject to disease, except an attack 
of the gout occasionally, until the year 1781, when he 
was first attacked with the symptoms of the calculous 
complaint, which continued during his life. During 
the intervals of pain from this grievous disease, he spent 
many cheerful hours, conversing in the most agreeable 
and instructive manner. His faculties were entirely 
unimpaired, even to the hour of his death. 

His name, as president of the Abolition Society, 
was signed to the memorial presented to the House of 
Representatives of the United States, on the I2th of 
February 1789, praying them to exert the full extent 
of power vested in them by the constitution, in dis- 
couraging the traffic of the human species This was 
his last public act. In the debates to which this me- 
morial gave rise, several attempts were made to justify 
the trade. In the Federal Gazette of March 25th 
there appeared an essay, signed Historicus, written by 
Dr. Franklin, in which he communicated a speech, said 
to have been delivered in the Divan of Algiers in 
1687, in opposition to the prayer of the petition of a 



136 THE LIFE OF 

sect called Erika^ or purists, for the abolition of piracy 
and slavery. This pretended African speech was an 
excellent parody of one delivered by Mr. Jackson of 
Georgia. All the arguments urged in favour of negro 
slavery, are applied with equal force, to justify the 
plundering and enslaving the Europeans. It affords, 
at the same time, a demonstration of the utility of the 
arguments in defence of the slave trade, and of the 
strength of mind and ingenuity of the author, at his 
advanced period of life. It furnished too a no less 
convincing proof of his power of imitating the style of 
other times and nations, than his celebrated parable 
against persecution. And as the latter led many to 
search the Scriptures with a view to find it, so the 
former caused many persons to search the book-stores 
and libraries, for the work from which it was said to be 
extracted.* 

In the beginning of April following, he was attack- 
ed with a fever and complaint of his breast, which 
terminated his existence. The following account of 
his last illness was written by his friend and physician, 
Dr. Jones. 

" The stone, ivith which he had been afflicted for 
several years, had for the last twelve months confined 
him chiefly to his bed ; and during the extreme painful 
paroxysms, he was obliged to take large doses of lau- 
danum to mitigate his tortures — still, in the intervals 
of pain, he not only amused himself with reading and 
conversing with his family, and a few friends who 
visited him, but was often employed in doing business 
of a public as well as private nature, with various per- 
sons who waited on him for that purpose ; and in every 
instance displayed, not only that readiness and disposi- 
tion of doing good, which was the distinguishing cha- 
racteristic of his life, but the fullest and clearest posses- 
sion of his uncommon mental abilities ; and not unfre- 
quently indulged himself in those jeux d*es/irU and en- 
tertaining anecdotes, which were the delight of all who 
heard him. 

* This speech wUl be found in the volume of Essays. 



DR. FRANKLIN. 137* 

*< About sixteen days before his death, he was seized 
with a feverish indisposition, without any particular 
symptoms attending it, till the third or fourth day, when 
he complained of a pain in his left breast, which increas- 
ed till it became extremely acute, attended with a cough 
and laborious breathing. During this state, when the 
severity of his pains sometimes drew forth a groan of 
complaint, he would observe— that he was afraid he did 
not bear them as he ought — -acknowledged his grateful 
sense of the many blessings he had received from that 
Supreme Being, who had raised him from small and low 
beginnings to such high rank and consideration among 
men — and no doubt but his present afflictions were 
kindly intended to wean him from a world, in which he 
was no longer fit to act the part assigned hira. In this 
frame of body and mind he continued till five days be- 
fore his death, when his pain and difficulty of breathing 
intirely left him, and his family were flattering them- 
selves with the hopes of his recovery, when an impos- 
thumation, which had formed itself in his lungs, sudden- 
ly burst, and discharged a great quantity of matter, 
which he continued to throw up while he had sufficient 
strength to do it ; but, as that failed, the organs of re- 
spiration became gradually oppresSSii — a calm lethargic 
state succeeded — and, on the 17ih of April, 1790, about 
eleven o'clock at night, he expired, closing a long and 
useful life of eighty-four years and three months. 

" It may not be amiss to add to the above account, 
that Dr. Franklin, in the year 1735, had a severe pleu- 
risy which terminated in an abscess of the left lobe of 
his lungs, and he was then almost suffi)cated with the 
quantity and suddenness of the discharge. A second 
attack of a similar nature happened some years after 
this, from which he soon recovered, and did not appear 
to suffer any inconvenience in his respiration from these 
diseases." 

M2 



138 THE LIFE or 

The following epitaph on himself, was written by him 
many years previous to his death : 

THE BODY 

of 

Benjamin Franklin, Printfer, 

(Like the cover of an old book, 

Its contents torn out, 

And stript of its lettering and gilding) 

Lies here, food for worms; 

Yet the work itself shall not be lost. 

For it will (as he believed) appear once more, 

In a new 

And more beautiful edition, 

Corrected and amended 

by 

The Author 



Exi'SActs from the Last Will and Testament of Dn» 
Franklin. 

WITH regard to my booiis, those I had in France^ 
and those I left in Philadelphia, being now assembled to- 
gether here, and a catalogue made of them, it is my in- 
tention to dispose of the same as follows : 

My history of the academy of Sciences, in sixty or 
seventy volumes quarto, I give to the philosophical so- 
ciety of Philadelphia, of which I have the honour to 
be president. My collection in folio of Les Arts i3^ 
JLes Metiers^ I give to the philosophical society, esta- 
blished in New-England, of which I am a member. — 
My quarto edition of the same Jrta and Metiers^ I 



Da. FRANKLIN, 1^9 

give to the library company of Philadelphia. Such 
and so many of my books as I shall mark, in the said 
catalogue, with the name of my grandson, Benjamin 
Franklin Bache, I do hereby give to him : and such 
and so many of my books, as I shall mark in the said 
catalogue with the name of my grandson, William 
Bache, I do hereby give to him : and such as shall be 
marked with the name of Jonathan Williams, I here- 
by give to my cousin of that name. The residue and 
remainder of all my books, manuscripts and papers, I 
do give to my grandson William Temple Franklin. -i— 
My share in the library company of Philadelphia, I 
give to my grandson, Benjamin Franklin Bache, con- 
fiding that he will permit his brothers and sisters to 
share in the use of it. 

I was born in Boston, New-England, and owe my first 
instructions in literature to the free grammar-schools 
established there. I therefore give one hundred pounds 
sterling to my executors, to be by them, the survivors 
or survivor of them, paid over to the managers or di- 
rectors of the free schools in my native town of Bos- 
ton, to be by them, or the person or persons who shall 
have the superintendance and mananpent of the said 
schools, put out to interest, and ^^continued at in- 
terest for ever ; which interest annually shall be laid 
out in silver medals, and given as honorary rewards 
annually by the directors of the said free schools, for 
the encouragement of scholarship in the said schools, 
belonging to the said town, in such manner as to the 
discretion of the select men of the said town shall seem 
meet. 

Out of the salary that may remain due to me, as pre* 
sident of the state, I give the sum of two thousand 
pounds to my executors, to be by them, the survivors or 
survivor of them, paid over to such person or persons 
as the legislature of this state, by an act of assembly, 
shall appoint to receive the same, in trust, to be em- 
ployed for making the Schuylkill navigable. 

During the number of years I was in business as a 
stationer, printer, and post-master, a great many smaU 



\40 THB LIFE OF 

sums became due to me, for books, advertisements, 
postage of letters, and other matters, which were not 
collected, when, in 1757, I was sent by the assembly 
to England as their agent — and by subsequent ap- 
pointment continued there till 1775 — when, on my 
return, I was immediately engaged in the affairs of 
congress, and sent to France in 1776, where I remain- 
ed nine years, not returning till 1785 ; and the said 
debts not being demanded in such a length of time, 
are become in a manner obsolete, yet are nevertheless 
justly due. — These as they are stated in my great folio 
ledger, E. I bequeath to the contributors of the Penn- 
sylvania hospital ; hoping that these debtors, and the 
descendants to such as are deceased, who now, as I 
find, make some difficulty of satisfying such antiqua- 
ted demands as just debts, may however be induced to 
pay or give them as charity to that excellent institu- 
tion. I am sensible that much must inevitably be lost ; 
but I hope something considerable may be recovered. 
It is possible too that some of the parties charged may 
have existing old unsettled accounts against me ; in 
which case the managers of the said hospital will allow 
and deduct th^Muount, and pay the balance, if they 
find it against i^^ 

I request my friends Henry Hill, Esq. John Jay, 
Esq. Francis Hopkinson, Esq. and Mr. Edward Duf- 
field, of Bonfield, in Philadelphia county, to be the 
executors of this my last will and testament, and I 
hereby nominate and appoint them for that purpose. 

I would have my body buried with as little expence 
or ceremony as may be. 

PMladel/ihiaj July 17, 1788. 



PR. FRANKLllf. 141 



CODICIL. 



I, Benjamin Franklin, in the foregoing or annexed 
last will and testament, having further considered the 
same, do think proper to make and publish the follow- 
ing codicil, or addition thereto : 

It having long been a fixed political opinion of mine, 
that in a democratical state there ought to be no offices, 
of profit, for the reasons I had given in an article of 
my drawing in our constitution, it was my intention 
when I accepted the office of president, to devote the 
appointed salary to some public use : Accordingly I 
had already, before I made my last will, in July last, 
given large sums of it to colleges, schools, building of 
churches, &c. and in that will I bequeathed two thou- 
sand pounds more to the state, for the purpose of ma- 
king the Schuylkill navigable; but understanding since, 
that such a sum will do but little towards accomplish- 
ing such a work, and that the project is not likely to 
be undertaken for many years to cq|M->and having en- 
tertained another idea, which I h^e may be found 
more extensively useful, I do hereby revoke and annul 
the bequest, and direct that the certificates I have for 
what remains due to me of that salary, be sold towards 
raising the sum of two thousand pounds sterling, to be 
disposed of as I am now about to order. 

It has been an opinion, that he who receives an es- 
tate from his ancestors, is under some obligation to 
transmit the same to posterity. This obligation lies 
not on me, who never inherited a shilling from any an- 
cestor or relation. I shall, however, if it is not dimi- 
nished by some accident before my death, leave a con- 
siderable estate among my descendants and relations. 
The above observation is made merely as some apolo- 
gy to" my family, for my making bequests that do not 
appear to have any immediate relation to their advan- 
tage. 



142 THE LIFE OF 

/ 

I was born in Boston, New-England, and owe my 
first instructions in literature to the free grammar- 
schools established there. I have therefore considered 
those schools in my will. 

But I am under obligations to the state of Massa- 
chusetts, for having, unasked, appointed me formerly 
their agent, with a handsome salary, which continued 
some years : and although I accidentally lost in their 
service, by transmitting governor Hutchinson's letters, 
much more than the amount of what they gave me, I 
do not think that ought in the least to diminish my 
gratitude. I have considered that, among artisans, 
good apprentices are most likely to make good citi- 
zens ; and having myself been bred to a manual art, 
printing, in my native town, and afterwards assisted to 
set up my business in Philadelphia by kind loans of 
money from two friends there, which was the founda- 
tion of my fortune, and of all the utility in life that 
may be ascribed to me — I wish to he useful even after 
my death, if possible, in forming and advancing other 
young men, that may be serviceable to their country in 
both these towns. 

To this end I jB||ote two thousand pounds sterling, 
which I give, on^^ousand thereof to the inhabitants 
of the town of Boston, in Massachusetts, and the other 
thousand to the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia, 
in trust, to and for the uses, intents, and purposes) 
herein after mentioned and declared. 

The said sum of one thousand pounds sterling, if ac- 
cepted by the inhabitants of the town of Boston, shall 
be managed under the direction of the select-men, uni- 
ted with the ministers of the oldest episcopalian, con- 
gregational, and presbyterian churches, in that town, 
who are to let out the same upon interest at five per 
cent, per annum, to such young married artificers, un- 
der the age of twenty-five years, as have served an ap- 
prenticeship in the said town, and faithfully fulfilled the 
duties required in their indentures, so as to obtain a 
good moral character from at least two respectable ci- 
tizens, who are willing to become sureties in a bond 



DRr franklxnI 143 

with the applicants for the repayment of the money 
so lent with interest, according to the terms herein 
after prescribed ; all which bonds are to be taken for 
Spanish milled dollars, or the value thereof in current 
gold coin; and the managers shall keep a bound book, or 
books, wherein shall be entered the names of those 
who shall apply for and receive the benefit of. this insti- 
tution, and of their sureties, together with the sums lent? 
the dales, and other necessary and proper records re- 
specting the business and concerns of this institutions 
and as these loans are intended to assist young married 
artificers in setting up their business, they are to be pro- 
portioned by the discretion of the managers, so as not 
to exceed sixty pounds sterling to one person, nor to be 
less than fifteen pounds. 

And if the number of appliers so entitled should be 
so large as that the sum will not suffer to afford to 
each as much as might otherwise not be improper, the 
proportion to each shall be diminished, so as to afford 
to every one some assistance. These aids may there- 
fore be small at first, but as the capital increases by the 
accumulated interest, they will be more ample. And in 
order to serve as many as possible i^Jheir turn, as well 
as to make the repayment of the principal borrowed 
more easy, each borrower shall be obliged to pay with 
the yearly interest one tenth part of the principal ; 
which sums of principal and interest so paid in, shall 
be again let out to fresh borrowers. And it is presum- 
ed, that there will be always found in Boston virtuous 
and benevolent citizens, willing to bestow a part of their 
time in doing good to the rising generation, by super- 
intending and managing this institution gratis ; it is 
hoped that no part of the money will at any time lie 
dead, or be diverted to other purposes, but be continu- 
ally sugmented by the interest, in which case there may 
in time be more than the occasion in Boston shall re- 
quire ; and then some may be spared to the neigh- 
bouring or other towns in the said state of Massachu- 
setts, which may desire to have it, such towns engag- 
ing to pay punciuallythe interest, and such proportions 



144 THE IIFE OF 

of the principal annually to the inhabitants of ifee 
town of Boston. If this plan is executed, and succeeds, 
as projeixte^, without interruption, for one hundred 
years, the sum will be then one hundred and thirty- 
one thousand pounds ; of which I would have the ma- 
nagers of the donation to the town of Boston then lay 
out, at their discretion, one hundred thousand pounds 
in public works, which may be judged of most general 
utility to the inhabitants; such as fortifications, bridges, 
acqueducts, public buildingsjbaths, pavements, or what- 
ever may make living in the town more convenient to its 
people, and render it more' agreeable to strangers re- 
sorting thither for health, or a temporary residence. 
The remaining thirty-one thousand pounds I would 
have continued to be let out to interest, in the manner 
above directed for one hundred years ; as I hope it 
will have been found that the institution has had a 
good effect on the conduct of youth, and been of ser- 
vice to many worthy characters and useful citizens. 
At the end of this second term, if no unfortunate ac- 
cident, has prevented the operation, the sum will be 
four millions and sixty-one thousand pounds sterling j 
of which I leave^ne million and sixty-one thousand 
pounds to the disposition and management of the in- 
habitants of the town of Boston, and the three millions 
to the disposition of the government of the state ; not 
presuming to carry my views any further. 

All the directions herein given respecting the dis- 
position and management of the donation to the inha- 
bitants of Boston, I would have observed respecting 
that to the inhabitants of Philadelphia ; only, as Phi- 
ladelphia is incorporated, I request the corporation of 
that city to undertake the management, agreeably to 
the said directions : and I do hereby vest them with 
full and ample powers for that purpose. And having 
considered that the covering of its ground-plat with 
buildings and pavements, which carry off most rain, and 
prevent its soaking into the earth, and renewing and 
purifying the springs, whence the water of the wells 
must gradually grow worse, and in time be unfit for 



DR. FRANKLIN. 145 

use, as I find has happened in all old cities ; I recom- 
mend, that, at the end of the first hundred years, if not 
done before, the corporation of the city employ a part 
of the hundred thousand pounds in bringing by pipes 
the water of Wissahickon-creek into the town, so as to 
supply the inhabitants, which I apprehend may be done 
without much difficulty, the level of that creek being 
much above that of the city, and may be made higher 
by a dam. I also recommend making the Schuylkill 
completely navigable. At the end of the second hun- 
dred years, I would have the disposition of the four 
millions and sixty-one thousand pounds divided between 
the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia and the gov- 
ernment of Pennsylvania, in the same manner as here- 
in directed with respect to that of the inhabitants .of 
Boston and the goverment of Massachusetts. It is my 
desire that this institution should take place and begin 
to operate within one year after my decease ; for which 
purpose due notice should be publicly given, previous to 
the expiration of that year, that those for whose benefit 
this establishment is intended may make their respective 
applications ; and I hereby direct my executors, the 
survivors and survivor of them, witSin six months after 
my decease; to pay over the said sum of two thousand 
pounds sterling to such persons as shall be duly appoint- 
ed by the select men of Boston, and the corporation of 
Philadelphia, to receive and take charge of their respec- 
tive sums of one thousand pounds each for the purposes 
aforesaid. Considering the accidents to which all human 
affairs and projects are subject in such a length of tirae^ 
I have perhaps too much flattered myself with a vain 
fancy, that these dispositions, if carried into execution, 
will be continued without interruption, and have the ef- 
fects proposed; I hope however, that, if the inhabitants 
of the two cities should not think fit to undertake the 
execution, they will at least accept the ofi'er of these 
donations, as a mark of my good will, token of my 
gratitude, and testimony of my desire to be useful to 
them even after my departure. I wish, indeed, that 

N 



i46 THE LIFE OF, 8cC. 

they may both undertake to endeavour the execution 
of my project, because I think, that, though unfore- 
seen difficulties may arise, expedients will be found to 
remove them, and the scheme be found practicable. 
If one of them accepts the money with the conditions, 
and the other refuses, my will then is, that both sums 
be given to the inhabitants of the city accepting ; the 
whole to be applied to the same purposes, and under 
the same regulations directed for the separate parts ; 
and if both refuse, the money remains of course in the 
mass of my estate, and it is to be disposed of therewith, 
according to my will made the seventeenth day of July 
1788. 

My fine crab-tree walking-stick, with a gold head 
curiously wrought in the form of the cap of Liberty, I 
give to my friend, and the friend of mankind. General 
Washington. If it were a sceptre? he had merited it, 
and would become it. 



ESSAYS, 

HUMOUROUS, MORAL AND, 
LITERARY, &c. 



ON EAELY MARRIAGES. 

t 
TO JOHN ALLEYNE, ESq. 

DEAR JACK, 

YOU desire, you say, my impartial thouglits on the 
subject of an early marriage, by way of answer to the 
numberless objections that have been made by nijme- 
rous persons to your own. You may remember when 
you consulted me on the occasion, that I thought 
youth on both sides to be no objection. Indeed, from 
the marriages that have fallen under my observation, 
I am rather inclined to think, that early ones stand 
the best chance of happiness. The temper and habits 
of the young are not yet become so stiff and uncom- 
plying, as when more advanced in life ; they form more 
easily to each other, and hence many occasions of dis- 
'gust are removed. And if yoyih has less of that pru- 
dence which is necessary to mdnage a family, yet the 
parents and elder friends of young married persons are 
generally at hand to afford their advice, which amply 
supplies that defect; and by early marriage, youth is 



148 ESSAYS. 

sooner formed to regular and useful life j and possibly 
some of those accidents or connections, that might 
have injured the constitution or reputation, or both, 
are thereby happily prevented. Particular circumstances 
of particular persons, may possibly sometimes make it 
prudent to delay entering into that state ; but in ge- 
neral, when nature has rendered our bodies fit for it, 
the presumption is in nature's favour, that she has not 
judged amiss in making us desire it. Late marriages 
are often attended, too, with this further inconveni- 
ence, that there is not the same chance that the pa- 
rervt shall live to see their offspring educated. '* Late 
children," says the Spanish proverb, '* are early or- 
phans." A melancholy reflection to those whose case 
it may be. With us in America, marriages are ge- 
nerally in the morning of life ; our children are there- 
fore educated and settled in the world by noon ; and 
thus, our business being done, we have an afternoon 
and evening of chearful leisure to ourselves, such as our 
friend at present enjoys. By these early marriages we 
are blessed with more children ; and from the mode 
among us, founded by nature, of every mother suck- 
ling and nursing her own child, more of them are 
raised. Thence the swift progress of population among 
us, unparalleled in Europe. In fine, 1 am glad you 
are married, and congratulate you most cordially uj)on 
it. You are now in the way of becoming a useful 
citizen ; and you have escaped the unnatural state of 
celibacy for life — the fate of many here, who never 
intended it, but who having too long postponed the 
change of their condition, find, at length, that it is too 
late to think of it, and so live all their lives in a situa- 
tion that greatly lessens a man's value. An odd vo- 
lume of a set of books bears not the value of its propor- 
tion to the set : what think you of the odd half of a 
pair of scissors ? it can't well do any thing; it may pos- 
sibly serve to scrape a trencher. 

Pray make my compliments and best wishes accepta- 
ble to your bride. I am old and heavy, or I should 



ESSAYS. 149 

ere this have presented them in person. I shall make 
but small use of the old man's privilege, that of giving 
advice to younger friends. Treat your wife always 
with respect ; it will procure respect to you, not only 
from her, but from all that observe it. Never use a 
slighting expression to her, even in jest ; for slights in 
jest, after frequent bandyings, are apt to end in angry 
earnest. Be studious in your profession, and you will 
be learned. Be industrious and frugal, and you wil! 
be rich. Be sober and temperate, and you will be 
healthy. Be in general virtuous, and you will be hap- 
py. At least, you will, by such conduct, stand the best 
chance for such consequences. I pray God to bless you 
both i being ever your affectionate friend, 

B. FRANKLIN. 



ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER, Mr. 
JOHN FRANKLIN. 

TO MISS HUBBARD. 



I CONDOLE with you. We have lost a most dear 
and valuable relation. But it is the will of God and 
nature, that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when 
the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an 
embryo state, a preparation for living. A man is not 
completely born until he be dead. Why then should 
we grieve that a new child is born among the immor- 
tals, a new member added to their happy society ? We 
are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they 
can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, 
or doing good lo our fellow-creatures, is a kind and 
N2 



150 ESSAYS. 

benevolent act of God. When they become unfit fof 
these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, 
instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and answer 
none of the intentions for which they were given, it is 
equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by 
which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. 
We ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a par- 
tial death. A mangled painful limb, which cannot be 
restored, we willingly cut off. He who plucks out a 
tooth, parts with it freely, since the pain goes with it : 
and he who quits the whole body, parts at once with all 
pains, and possibilities of pains and diseases, it was lia- 
ble to, or capable of making him suffer. 

Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of 
pleasure, which is to last for ever. His chair was rea- 
dy first ; and he i& gone before us. We could not all 
conveniently start together : and why should you and I be 
grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know 
where to find him ? 

Adieu, 

B. FRANKLIN. 



TO THE LATE 

DOCTOR MATHER, OF BOSTON. 

REV. SIR, 

I RECEIVED your kind letter, with your excel- 
lent advice to the United States, which I read with 
great pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. 
Such writings, though they may be lightly passed over 
by many readers, yet, if they make a deep impression 
on one active mind in a hundred, the effects may be 
considerable. 



ESSATSi iSl 

Permit me to mention one little instance, which, 
though it relates to myself, will not be quite uninterest- 
ing to you When I was a boy, I met with a book en- 
titled, " Essays to do good," which I think was written 
by your father It had been so little regarded by a for- 
mer possessor, that several leaves of it were, torn outj 
but the remainder gave me such a turn of thinking, as to 
have an influence on my conduct through life : for I 
have always set a greater value on the character of a 
doer of good, than any other kind of reputation : and if I 
have been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the 
public owes the advantage of it to that book. 

You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year. 
I am in my seventy-ninth. VVje are grown old together. 
It is now more than sixty years since I left Boston ; 
But I remember well both your father and grandfather, 
having heard them both in the pulpit, and seen them 
in their houses. The last time I saw your father was 
in the beginning of 1724, when I visited him after my 
first trip to Pennsylvania : he received me in his li- 
brary ; and oft my takiiig leave shewed me Jja<&horter 
way out of the house, through a narrow passage, which 
was crossed by a beam over head. We were still talk- 
ing as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and 
I turning partly towards him, when he said hastily, 
" Stoop, Stoop I" I did not understand him till I felt my 
head hit against the beam. He was a man who never 
missed any occasion of giving instruction ; and upon 
this he said to me : " You are young and have the world 
before you : stoop as you go through it, and you will 
miss many hard thumps." This advice thus beat into 
my heart, has frequently been of use to me; and I 
often think of it when I see pride mortified, and mis- 
fortunes brought upon people by their carrying their 
heads top high. 

I long much to see again my native place ; and once 
hoped to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723. I visit- 
ed it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and 1763 ; and in 1773 I was 
in England. In 1775 I had a sight of it, but could not 



152 ESSAYS. 

enter, it being in possession of the enemy. I did hope 
to have been there in 1783, but could not obtain a dis- 
mission from this employment here ; and now I fear I 
shall never have that happiness. My best wishes how- 
ever attend my dear country, " esto per/ietua." It is 
now blessed with an excellent constitution : may it last 
for ever ! 

This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for 
the United States. It is a friendship of the utmost im- 
portance to our security, and should be carefully culti- 
vated. Britain has not yet well digested the loss of its 
dominion over us ; artd has still at times some flattering 
hopes of recovering it. Accidents may increase those 
hopes and encourage dangerous attemps. A breach 
between us and France ^ould infallibly bring the English 
again upon our backs: and yet we have some wild 
beasts among our cotintrymen, who are endeavouring to 
weaken that connection. 

Let us preserve our reputation, by performing our 
engagements ; our credit, by fulfilling our contracts ; 
and our iriends, by gratitude and kindness : for we know 
not how soon we may again have occasion for all of 
them. 

With great and sincere esteem, 
I have the honour to be, 
Reverend Sir, 

Your most obedient and 
most humble servant, 



B. FRANKLIN. 



Passy, May, 12, 
1784. 



ESSAYS/ 

THE WHISTLE, 
A TRUE STORY. 

WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW. 



WHEN I was a child, at seven years old, my 
friends on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I 
went directly to a shop where they sold toys for chil- 
dren ; and being charmed with the sound of a whistle, 
that I met by the way in the hands of another boy, I 
voluntarily offered him all my money for one. I then 
came home, and went a whistling all over the house, 
much pleased with my whistle^ but disturbing all the 
family. My brothers, and sisters and cousins, under- 
standing the bargain I had made, told me I had given 
four times as much for it as it was worth. This put 
me in mind what good things I might have bought 
with the rest of my money ; and they laughed at me 
so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation ; and 
the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle 
gave me pleasure. 

This however was afterwards of use to me, the im- 
pression continuing on my mind : so that often, when I 
was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said 
to myself. Don't give too much for the whistle ; and so I 
saved m.y money. 

As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the 
actions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, 
'^\iO gave too much for the whistle. 

When I saw any one too ambitious of court favours, 
sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, 
his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain 
it, I have said to myself, This man gives too much for 
his whistle. 



I 

I 



IBAi ESSAYS. 

When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly 
4|, employing himself in political bustles, neglecting his 
^K; own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect : Ne pays 

* indeed^ says I, too much for his whistle. 

i If I knew a miser who gave up every kind of com- 

|l fbrtable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, 

all the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of 

, ^^ benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating 

^' ^ "wealth : Poor many says I, you do indeed fiay too much 

for your whittle. 

When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing every 
laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to 
mere corporeal sensations ; Mistaken many says I, you 
are providing pain for yourself instead of pleasure : you 
give too much for your whistle. 

If I see one fond of fine clothes, fine furniture, fine 
equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts 
debts, and ends his career in prison ; Alasy says I, he 
has paid deary very dear for his whistle. 

When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl, mar- 
ried to an ill-natured brute of a husband : What a pity 
it isy says I, that she has paid so much for a whistle ! 

In short, I conceived that great part of the laiseries of 
mankind were brought upon them by the false esti- 
mates they had made of the value of things, and by their 
giving too much for their whistles. 



;v*J^ 



EssAys. 155 

A PETITION- 
TO THOSE WHO HAVE THE SUPERINTEN- 
DENCY OF EDUCATION. 



I ADDRESS myself to all the friends of" youth, 
and conjure them to direct their compassionate re- 
gards to my unhappy fate, in order to remove the pre- 
judices of which I am the victim. There are twin 
sisters of us : and the two eyes of man do not more Aj 
resemble, nor are capable of being upon better terms i^"^. 
with each other, than my sister and myself, were it 
not for the partiality of our parents, who make the 
most injurious distinctions between us. From my in- 
fancy I have been led to consider my sister as a being 
of more elevated rank. I was suffered to grow up 
without the leastjaistruction, while nothing was spared 
in her education. She had masters to teach her wri- 
ting, drawing, music, and other accomplishments ; but 
if by chance I touched a pencil, a pen, or a needle, I 
was bitterly rebuked : and more than once have I been 
beaten for being aukward, and wanting a graceful 
manner. It is true, my sister associated me with her 
upon some occasions ; but she always made a point of 
taking the lead, calling upon me only from necessity, 
or to figure by her side. 

But conceive, not, Sirs, that my complaints are in- 
stigated merely by vanity — No ; my uneasiness is oc- 
casioned by one object much more serious. It is th© 
practice in our family, that the whole business of pro- 
viding for its subsistence falls upon my sister and my- 
self. If any indisposition should attack my sister— 



156 ESSAYS. 

and I mention it in confidence, upon this occasion, that 
she is subject to the gout, the rheuniatism and cramp, 
without making mention of other accidents — what would 
be the fate of our poor family ? Must not the regret 
of our parents be excessive, at having placed so great 
a difference between sisters who are so perfectly equal ? 
Alas ! we must perish from distress : for it would not 
be in my power even to scrawl a suppliant petition for 
relief, having been obliged to employ the hand of ano- 
ther in transcribing the request which I have now the 
honour to prefer to you. 

Condescend, Sirs, to make my parents sensible of the 
injustice of an exclusive tenderness, and of the neces- 
sity of distributing their care and affection among all 
^heir children equally. 

I am, with profound respect, 
Sirs, 
Your obedient servant, 

THE LEFT HAND. 



THE 

HANDSOME AND DEFORMED LEG. 

THERE are two sorts of people in the world, 
who, with equal degrees of health and wealth, and the 
other comforts of life, become the one happy, and the 
other miserable. This arises very much from the dif- 
ferent views in which they consider things, persons, and 
events; and the effect of those different views upon 
their own minds. 

In whatever situation men can be placed, they may 
find conveniences and inconveniencies ; in whatever 



ESSAYS. 157 

company, they may find persons and conversation more 
or less pleasing : at whatever table, they may meet 
whh meats and drinks of better and worse taste, dishes 
better and worse dressed : in whatever climate, they 
will find good and bad weather : under whatever go- 
vernment, they may find good and bad laws, and good 
and bad administration of those laws; in whatever 
poem, or work of genius, they may see faults and beau- 
ties : in almost every face and every person, they may 
discover fine features and defects, good and bad quali- 
ties. 

Under these circumstances, the two sorts of people 
above-mentioned, fix their attention, those who are 
disposed to be happy, on the conveniences of things, 
the pleasant part of the conversation, the well dressed 
dishes, the goodness of the wines, the fine weather, 
&c. and enjoy all with cheerfulness. Those who are 
to be unhappy, think and speak only of the contraries. 

Hence they are continually discontented them- 
selves, and by their remarks, sour the pleasures of 
society ; offend personally many people, and make 
themselves every where disagreeable. If this turn of 
mind was founded in nature, such unhappy persons 
would be the more to be pitied. But as the disposi- 
tion to criticise, and to be disgusted, is, perhaps, taken 
up originally by imitation, and is, unawares, grown 
into a habit, which, though at present strong, may ne- 
vertheless be cured, when those who have it are con- 
vinced of its bad effects on their felicity ; 1 hope this 
little admonition may be of service to them, and put 
them on changing a habit, which, though in the exer- 
cise it is chiefly an act of imagination, yet has serious 
consequences in life, as it brings on real griefs and 
misfortunes. For as many are offended by, and nobody 
loves, this sort of people ; no one shews them more 
than the most common civility and respect, and scarcely 
that ; and this frequently puts them out of humour, and 
draws them into disputes and contentions. If they aim 
at obtaining some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody 
wishes them success, or will stir a step, or speak a 
word to favour their pretensions. If they incur public 

O 



158 ESSAYS 

censure or disgrace, no one will defend or excuse, and' 
many join to aggravate their misconduct, and render 
them completely odious. If these people will not change 
this bad habit, and condescend to be pleased with what 
is pleasing, without fretting themselves and others 
about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid 
an acquaintance with them ; which is always disagreea- 
ble, and sometimes very inconvenient, especially when 
one finds one's self entangled in their quarrels. 

An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from 
experience, very cautious in this particular, and care- 
fully avoided any intimacy with such people. He had, 
like other philosophers, a thermometer to shew him 
the heat of the weather; and a barometer, to mark 
when it is likely to prove good or bad ; but there be- 
ing no instrument invented to discover at first sight, 
this unpleasing disposition in a person, he, for that pur- 
pose, made use of his legs ; one of which was remark- 
ably handsome, the other, by some accident, crooked 
and deformed. If a stranger, at the first interview, 
regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, he 
doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no notice of 
the handsome leg, that was sufficient to determine my 
philosopher to have no further acquaintance with him. 
Every body has not this two-legged instrument ; but 
every one, with a little attention, may observe signs of 
that carping, fault-finding disposition, and take the 
same resolution of avoiding the acquaintance of those 
infected with it. I therefore advise those critical, queru- 
lous, discontented, unhappy people, that if they wish to 
be respected and beloved by others, and happy in them- 
selves, they should leave off looking at the ugly leg. 



ESSAYS, 1S9 

CONVERSATION 

OF A 

COMPANY OF EPHEMERA i 

WITH THE SOLILOQUY OF ONE ADVANCED IN AGE, 
TO MADAME BRILLIANT. 



YOU may remember, my dear friend that when 
we lately spent that happy day, in the delightful gar- 
den and sweet society of the Moulin Joly^ I stopt a 
little in one of our walks, and staid some time behind 
the company. We had been shewn numberless skele- 
tons of a kind of little fly, called, an Ephemerae, whose 
successive generations, we were told, were bred and 
expired within the day. I happened to see a -living 
company of them on a leaf, who appeared to be en- 
gaged in conversation. You know I understand all 
the inferior animal tongues ; my too great application 
to the study of them, is the best excuse I can give for 
the little progress, I have made in your charming lan- 
guage. 1 listened through curiosity to the discourse 
of these little creatures ; but as they, in their natural 
vivacity, spoke three or four together, I could make 
but little of their conversation, I found, however, by 
somfe broken expressions that I heard now and then, 
they were disputing warmly on the merit of two for- 
eign musicians, the one a cousin^ the other a musche- 
to ; in which dispute they spent their time, seemingly 
as regardless of the shortness of life as if they had been 



160 ESSAYS. 

sure of living a month. Happy people, thought I, 
you live certainly under a wise, just, and mild govern- 
ment, since you have no public grievances to com- 
plain of, nor any subject of contention, but the per- 
fections or imperfections of foreign music. I turned 
my bead from them to an old grey-headed one who was 
single on another leaf, and talking to himself. Being 
amused with his soliloque, I put it down in writing, in 
hopes it will likewise amuse her to whom I am so much 
indebted for the most pleasing of all amusements, her 
delicious company, and heavenly harmony. 

'' It was," says he, <* the opinion of learned philoso- 
phers of our race, who lived and flourished long before 
my time, that this vast world the Mouslin Joly could 
not itself subsist more than eighteen hours ; and I think 
there was some foundation for that opinion ; since, by 
the apparent motion of the great luminary, that gives 
life to all nature, and which in my time has evidently 
declined considerably towards the ocean at the end 
of our earth, it must then finish its course, be extin- 
guished in the waters that surround us, and leave the 
_-world in cold and darkness, necessarily producing uni- 
versal death and destruction. I have lived seven of 
those hours ; a great age, being no less than 420 
minutes of time. How very few of us continue so 
long ! I have seen generations born, flourish, and ex- 
pire. My present friends are the children and grand- 
children of the friends of my youth, who are now, alas, 
no more ! And I must soon follow them ; for, by the 
course of nature, though still in health, I cannot ex- 
pect to live above seven or eight minutes longer. 
Wfiat now avails all my toil and labour, in amassing 
iioney-dew on this leaf, which I cannot live to enjoy ! 
What the political struggles I have been engaged in, 
tor the good of my corn-patriot inhabitants of this bush, 
or my philosophical studies, for the benefit of our race 
in general I for in politics (what can laws do without 
morals ?) our present race of Ephemerse will in a course 
of minutes become corrupt, like those of other and 
older bushes, and cons,e^yently as wretched: And in 



ESSAYS. 161 

philosophy how small our progress i Alas ! art is long 
and life is short ! My friends would comfort me with 
the idea of a name, they say, I shall leave behind me ; 
and they tell me I have lived long enough to nature 
and to glory. But what will fame be to an Ephemerae 
who no longer exists ? and what will become of all histo- 
ry in the eighteenth hour, when the world itself, even 
the whole Moulin Joly^ shall come to its end, and be bu- 
ried in universal ruin ?" 

To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid pleasures 
now remain, but the reflection of a long life spent in 
meaning welli the sensible conversation of a few good 
lady Ephemerae, and now and then a kind smile and a 
tune from the ever amiable Brilliant. 

B, FRANKLIN. 



MORALS OF CHESS. 



PLAYING at chess is the most ancient and most 
universal game known among men ; for its original is 
beyond the memory of history, and it has, for number- 
less ages, been the amusement of all the civilized na- 
tions of Asia, the Persians, the Indians, and the Chi- 
nese. Europe has had it above a thousand years ; the 
Spaniards have spread it over their part of America, 
and it begins lately to make its appearance in these 
states. It is so interesting in itself, as to not need the 
view of gain to induce engaging in it ; and thence it 
is never played for money. Those, therefore, who 
have leisure for such diversions, cannot find one that is 
more innocent ; and the following piece, written with 
a view to correct (among a few young friends) some 
little improprieties in the practice of it, shews, at the 
same time, that it m-^y, in its effects on the mind, be 
O 2 



162 ESSAYS. 

not merely innocent, but advantageous, to the van- 
quished as well as the victor. 

The game of chess is not merely an idle amuse- 
ment. Several valuable qualities of the mind, useful 
in the course of human life, are to be acquired or 
strengthened by it, so as to become habits? ready on 
all occasions. For life is a kind of chess, in which we 
have often points to gain, and competitors or adversa- 
ries to contend with, and in which there is a vast varie- 
ty of good and ill events, that are in some degree, the 
effects of prudence or the want of it. By playing at 
chess, then, we may learn, 

I. Foresight^ which looks a little into futurity, and 
considers the consequences that may attend an action ; 
for it is continually occurring to the player, " If I 
move this piece, what will be the advantage of my 
new situation ? What use can my adversary make of 
it to annoy me ? What other moves can I make to 
support it, and to defend myself from his attacks ?'* 

II. Circumsfieciion, which surveys the whole chess- 
board, or scene of action, the relations of the several 
pieces and situations, the dangers they are respectively 
exposed to, the several possibilities of their aiding each 
other, the probabilities that the adversary may take this 
or that move, and attack this or the other piece, and 
what different means can be used to avoid his stroke, 
or turn its consequences against him. 

III. Caution., not to make our moves too hastily. 
This habit is best acquired by observing strictly the 
laws of the game, such as, *' If you touch a piece, you 
" must move it somewhere ; if you set it down, you 
** must let it stand ;" and it is therefore best that these 
rules should be observed, as the game thereby becomes 
more the image of human life, and particularly of war; 

' in which, if you have incautiously put yourselves into a 
bad and dangerous position, you cannot obtain your 

^enemy's leave to withdraw your troops, and piace them 
more securely, but you must abide all the consequences 
of your rashness. 



ESSAYS. 163 

And, lastly we learn by chess the habit of not being 
discouraged by firesent bad afifiearances in the state of 
our affairs^ the habit oi hofiing for a favourable change, 
and that o{ persevering in the search of resources. The 
game is so full of events, there is such a variety of 
turns in it, the fortune of it is so subject to sudden vi- 
cissitudes, and one so frequently, after long contem- 
plation, discovers the means of extricating oneself from 
a supposed insurmountable difficulty ; that one is en- 
couraged to continue the contest to the last, in hopes 
of victory by our own skill, or at least giving a stale 
mate, by the negligence of our adversary. And who- 
ever considers, what in chess he often sees instances 
of, that particular pieces of success are apt to produce 
presumption, and its consequent inattention, by v^hich 
the loss may be recovered, will learn not to be too 
much discouraged by the present success of his adver- 
sary, nor to despair of final good fortune, upon every 
little check he receives in pursuit of it. 

That we may therefore, be induced more frequent- 
ly to choose this beneficial amusement, in preference 
to others, which are not attended with the same ad- 
vantages, every circumstance which may increase the 
pleasures of it should be regarded ; and every action 
or word that is unfair, disrespectful, or that in any way 
may give uneasiness, should be avoided, as contrary 
to the immediate intention of both the players, which 
is to pass the time agreeably. 

Therefore, first, \i it is agreed to play according to 
the strict rules : then those rules are to be exactly ob- 
served by both parties, and should not be insisted on 
for one side, while deviated from by the other for this 
is not equitable. 

Secondly, If it is agreed not to observe the rules ex- 
actly, but one party demands indulgences, he should 
then be as williny; to allow them to the other. 

Thirdly, No false move should ever be made to extri- 
cate yourself out of a difficulty, or to gain an advantage. 
There can be no pleasure in playing with a person 
once detected in such unfair practice. 



164 ESSAYS. 

Fourthly, If your adversary is long in playing, you 
ought not to hurry him, or express any uneasiness at 
his delay. You should not sing, nor whistle, nor look 
at your watch, nor take up a book to read, nor make a 
tapping with your feet on the floor, or with your fin- 
gers on the table, nor do any thing that may disturb 
his attention. For all these things displease, and they 
do not show your skill in playing, but your craftiness or 
your rudeness. 

Fifthly, You ought not to endeavour to amuse and de- 
ceive your adversary, by pretending to have made bad 
moves, and saying that you have now lost the game, in 
order to make him secure and careless, and inattentive 
to your schemes ; for this is fraud and deceit, not skill 
in the game. 

Sixthly, You must not, when you liave gained a vic- 
tory, use any triumphing or insulting expression, nor 
show too much pleasure ; but endeavour to console 
your adversary, and make him less dissatisfied with 
himself, by every kind of civil expression that may be 
used with truth, such as, " You understand the game 
" better than I, but you are a little inattentive ;'* or, 
" you play too fast i" or, ''you had the best of the game, 
*' but something happened to divert your thoughts, and 
" that turned it in my favour." 

Seventhly, If you are a spectator while others play, 
observe the most perfect silence. For if you give ad- 
vice you offend both parties ; him against whom you 
give it, because it may cost the loss of his game ; him 
in whose favour you give it, because, though it be good 
and he follows it, he loses the pleasure he might have 
had, if you had permitted him to think until it had oc- 
curred to himself. Even after a move, or moves, you 
must not, by replacing the pieces, show how it might 
have been placed better ; for that displeases, and may 
occasion disputes and doubts about their true situation. 
All talking to the players lessens or diverts their atten- 
tion, and is therefore unpleasing. Nor should you 
give the least hint to either party, by any kind of 
noise or motion. If you do, you are unworthy to be 



ESSAYS, 165 

a spectator. If you have a mind to exercise or 
show your judgment, do it in playing your own game, 
when you have an opportunity, not in criticising, or 
meddling with, or counselling the play of others. 

Lastly, if the game is not to be played rigorously, ac- 
cording to the rules above-mentioned, then moderate 
your desire of victory over your adversary, and be pleas- 
ed with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at eve- 
ry advantage offered by his unskilfulness or inattention; 
but point out to him kindly, that by such a move he pla- 
ces or leaves a piece in danger and unsupported ; that 
by another he will put" his king in a perilous situation, 
&c. By this generous civility (so opposite to the un- 
fairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to 
lose the game to your opponent, but you will win what 
is better, his esteem, his respect, and his affection; to- 
gether with the silent approbation and good-will of im- 
partial spectators. 



THE 

ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS. 

INSCRIBED TO MISS***, 

Being- ivritten at her request. 



As a great part of our life is spent in sleep, during 
which we have sometimes pleasing and sometimes 
painful dreams, it becomes of some consequence to ob- 
tain the one kind and avoid the other ; for, whether 
real or imaginary, pain is pain, and pleasure is pleasure. 
If we can sleep without dreaming, it is well that pain- 



166 ESSAYS' 

ful dreams are avoided. If, while we sleep, we can 
have any pleasing dreams, it is as the French say, tant 
gagney so much added to the pleasure of life. 

To this end it is, in the first place necessary to be 
careful in preserving health, by due exercise, and great 
temp^erance; for, in sickness, the imagination is disturb- 
ed ; and disagreeable, sometimes terrible ideas are apt 
to present themselves. Exercise should precede meals, 
not immediately follow them ; the first promotes, the 
latter, unless moderate, obstructs digestion. If, after 
exercise, we feed sparingly the digestion will be easy 
and good, the body lightsome, the temper cheerful, 
and all the animal functions performed agreeably. Sleep 
when it follows, will be natural and undisturbed. 
While indolence, with full feeding, occasion night- 
mares and horrors inexpressible : we fall from preci- 
pices, are assaulted by wild beasts, murderers and de- 
mons, and experience every variety of distress. Ob- 
serve, however that the quantities of food and exercise 
are relative things : those who move much may and 
indeed ought to eat more ; those who use little exer- 
cise, should eat little. In general, mankind, since the 
improvement in cookery, eat about twice as much as 
nature requires. Suppers are not bad, if we have not 
dined ; but restless nights naturally follow hearty sup- 
pers, after full dinners. Indeed as there is a difference 
in constitutions, some rest well after these meals ; it 
costs them only a frightful dream, and an apoplexy, after 
which they sleep till doomsday. Nothing is more com- 
mon in the newspapers, than instances of people, who, 
after eating a hearty supper, are found dead a-bed in the 
morning. 

Another means of preserving health, to be attended 
to, is the having a constant supply of fresh air in your 
bed-chamber. It has been a great mistake, the sleep- 
ing in rooms exactly closed, and in beds surrounded by 
eurtains. No outward air, that may come unto you, 
is so unwholesome as the unchanpjed air, often breath- 
ed, of a close chamber. As boiling water does not 
grow hotter by longer boiling, if the particles that 



ESSAYS. 167 

receive greater heat can escape ; so living bodies do 
not putrify, if the particles as fast as they become pu- 
trid, can be thrown off. Nature expels them by the 
pores of the skin and lungs, and in a free open air, 
they are carried off; but in a close room, we receive 
them again and again, though they become more and 
more corrupt. A number of persons crowded into a 
small room, thus spoil the air in a few minutes, and 
even render it mortal, as in the Black Hole at Calcutta. 
A single person is said to spoil only a gallon of air per 
minute, and therefore requires a longer time to spoil a 
chamber full ; but it is done, however, in proportion, 
and many putrid disorders hence have their origin. It 
is recorded of Methusalem, who being the longest 
liver, may be supposed to have best preserved his 
health, that he slept always in the open air ; for, when 
he had lived five hundred years, an angel said to iiim : 
" Arise, Methusalem ; and build thee an house, for 
<« thou shalt, live yet five hundred years longer." But 
Methusalem answered and said : " If I am to live but 
" five hundred years longer, it is not worth while to 
" build me an house — I will sleep in the air as I have 
" been used to do." Physicians after having for ages 
contended that the sick should not be indulged with 
fresh air, have at length discovered that it may do them 
good. It is therefore to be hoped that they may in time 
discover likewise that it is not hurtful to those who are 
in health; and that we may be then cured of the aero- 
fihobia that at present distresses weak minds, and make 
them choose to be stifled and poisoned, rather than 
leave open the windows of a bed-chamber, or put down 
the i^lafis of a coach. 

Confined air, when saturated with perspirable mat- 
ter,* will not receive more ; and that matter must re- 

* What physicians call the perspirable matter, is that vapour 
which passes oft' from our bodies, from ihe lungs, and through the 
pores of the skin. The quantity of this is said to be five eighths 
of what we eat. 



168 ESSAYS. 

main in our bodies, and occasion diseases : but it gives 
some previous notice of its being about to be hurtful, 
by producing certain uneasiness, slight indeed at first, 
such as, with regard to the lungs, is a trifling sensa- 
tion, and to the pores of the skin a kind of restlessness 
■which is difficult to describe, and few that feel it know 
the cause of it. But we may recollect, that sometimes, 
on waking in the night, we have, if warmly covered, 
found it difficult to get asleep again. We turn often 
without finding repose in any position. This figgetti- 
ness, to use a vulgar expression for want of a better, is 
occasioned wholly by an uneasiness in the skin, owing 
to the retention of the perspirable matter — the bed 
clothes having received their quantity, and, being satu- 
rated, refusing to take any more. To become sensible 
of this by an experiment, let a person keep his position 
in the bed, but throw off the bed-clothes and suff*er 
fresh air to approach the part uncovered of his body ; 
he will then feel that part suddenly refreshed ; for the 
air will immediately relieve, the skin, by receiving, 
licking uP) and carrying off, the load of perspirable 
matter that incommoded it. For every portion of cool 
air that approaches the warm skin, in receiving its 
part of that vapour, receives therewith a degree of 
heat, that rarefies and renders it lighter, when it will 
be pushed away, with its burthen, by cooler, and 
therefore heavier fresh air ; which, for a moment sup- 
plies its place, and then, being likewise changed, and 
warmed, gives way to a succeeding quantity. This is 
the order of nature, to prevent animals being infected 
by their own perspiration. He will now be sensible of 
the difference between the part exposed to the air, and 
that which remaining sunk in the bed, denies the air 
access : for this part now manifests, its uneasiness more 
distinctly by the comparison, and the seat of the unea- 
siness is more plainly perceived, than when the whole 
surface of the body was affected by it. 

Here, then, is one great and general cause of un- 
pleasing dreams. For when the body is uneasy, the 
mind will be disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideas of 



ESSAYS. 1-69 

various kinds, will, in sleep, be the natural conse- 
quences. The remedies, preventive and curative^ 
follow : 

1. By eating moderately, (as before advised for 
health's sake) less perspirable matter is produced in a 
given time ; hence the bed-clothes receive it longer 
before they are saturated ; and we may, therefore, sleep 
longer, before we are made uneasy by their refusing to 
receive any more. 

2. By using thinner and more porous bed-clothes, 
which will suffer the perspirable matter more easily to 
pass through them, we are less incommoded, such be- 
ing longer tolerable. 

3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and 
find you cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, beat 
up and turn your pillow, shake the bed-clothes well, 
with at least twenty shakes, then throw the bed open, 
and leave it to cool ; in the mean while, continuing 
undrest, walk about your chamber, till your skin has 
had time to discharge its load, which it will do sooner 
as. the air may be drier and colder. When you begin 
to feel the cold air unpleasant, then return lo your 
bed ; and you Vi^ill soon fall asleep, and your sleep will 
be sweet and pleasant. All the scenes presented to 
your fancy, will be of the pleasant kind. I am often 
as agreeably entertained with them, as by the scenery 
of an opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get 
out of bed, you may, instead of it, lift up your bed- 
clothes with one arm and leg, so as to draw in a good 
deal of fresh air, and, by letting them fall, force it out 
again. 7'his, repeated twenty times, will so clear them 
of the perspirable matter they have imbibed, as to per- 
mit your sleeping well for some time afterwards. But 
this latter method is not equal to the former. 

Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to 
have two beds, will find great luxury in rising, when 
they wake in a hot bed, and going into the cool one. 
Such shiftings of beds would also be of great service 
to persons ill in a fever, as it refreshes and frequently 
procures sleep. A very large bed, that will admit a 

P 



170 ESSAYS. 

removal so distant from the first situation as to be cool 
and sweet, may in a degree answer the same end. 

One or two observations more will conclude this 
little piece. Care must be taken, when you lie down, 
to dispose your pillow so as to suit your manner of 
placing your head, and to be perfectly easy ; then place 
your limbs so as not to bear inconveniently hard upon 
one another, as for instance, the joints of your ancles ; 
for though a bad position may at first give but little 
pain, and be hardly noticed, yet a continuance will ren- 
der it less tolerable, and the uneasiness may come on 
while you are asleep and disturb your imagination. 

These are the rules of the art. But though they 
will generally prove effectual in producing the end in- 
tended, there is a case in which the most punctual ob- 
servance of them will be totally fruitless. I need not 
mention the case to you, my dear friend : but my ac- 
count of the art would be imperfect without it. The 
case is, when the person who desires to have pleasant 
dreams has not taken care to preserve, what is neces- 
sary above all things, 

A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 



EbSAYS. 171 



ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. 



WRITTEN ANNO 1748. 

To viy Friend A, B. 



^s you have desired iC of me-^ I write the following hints^ 
tvhich have been of service to me^ and may^ if observ- 
edj be so to you. 



REMEMBER that time is money. He that can earn 
ten shillings a day by his labour, and goes abroad, or 
sits idle one half of that day, though he spends but six- 
pence during his diversion or idleness, ought not to 
reckon that the only expense ; he has really spent, or 
rather thrown away, five shillings besides. 

Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his 
money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me 
the interest, or so much as I can make of it during 
that time. This amounts to a considerable sum where a 
man has good and large credit, and makes good use 
of it. 

Remember that money is of a prolific generating- 
nature. Money can beget money, and its offspring 
can beget more, and so on. Five shillings turned is 
six ; turned again, it is seven and three pence ; and 
so on till it becomes an hundred pounds. The more 
there is of it, the more it produces every turning, so 
that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that 
kills a breeding sow, destroys all her offspring to the 
thousandlh generation. He that murders a crown, de- 
stroys all that it might have produced, even scores 
of pounds. 



172 • ESSAYS. 

Remember that six pounds a year is but a groat a 
day. For this little sum, which may be daily wasted 
either in time or expense, unperceived, a man of cre- 
dit may, on his own security, have the constant pos- 
session and use of an hundred pounds. So much in 
stock, briskly turned by an industrious man, produces 
great advantages. 

Remember this saying-, « The good paymaster is 
lord of another man's purse.'* He that is known to 
pay punctually and exactly to the time he promises, 
may at any time, and on anyi5ccasion, raise all the mo- 
ney his friends can spare. This is sometimes of great 
use. After industry and frugality, nothing contributes 
more to the raising of a young man in the world, tl>an 
punctuality and justice in all his dealings : therefore 
never keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time 
you promised, least a disappointment shut up your 
iriend*s purse for ever. 

The most trifling actions that affects a man's credit 
are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at 
live in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a credi- 
tor, makes him easy six months longer ; but if he sees 
you at a billiard table, or hears your voice at a tavern, 
when you should be at work, he sends for his money 
the next day ; demands it before he can receive it in a 
lump. 

It shews, besides, that you are mindful of what you 
owe ; it makes you appear a careful, as well as an ho- 
nest man, and that still increases your credit. 

Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, 
and of living accordingly. It is a mistake that many 
people who have credit fall into, 'i'o prevent this keep 
an exact account, for some time, both of your expences 
and your income. If you take the pains at first to men- 
tion particulars, it will have this good effect ; you will 
discover how wond^erfully small trifling expences mount 
up to large sums, and will discern what uiight have 
been, and may for the future be saved, without occa- 
sioning any great inconvenience. 



ESSAYS. 173 

In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as 
plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two 
words, iriflustry and frugality ; that is, waste neither 
time nor money, but make the best use of both. With- 
out industry and fruc^alify nothing will do, and with 
them every thing. He that gets all he can honestly, 
and saves all he gets, (necessary expences excepted) 
will certainly become rich — if that Being who governs 
the world, to whom all should look for a blessing on 
their honest endeavours, doth not, in his wise Provi- 
dence, otherwise determine. 

AN OLD TRADESMAN. 



NECESSARY HINTS TO THOSE THAT 
WOULD BE RICH. 

WRITTEN ANNO 1736. 

THE use of money is all the advantage there is in 
having money. 

For six pounds a year you may have the use of one 
hundred pounds, provided you are :a man of known 
prudence and honesty. 

He that spends a groit a day idly, spends idly above 
six pounds a year, which is the price for the use of one 
hundred pounds. 

He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time, per 
day, one day with another, wastes the privilege of using 
one hundred pounds each day. 

He that idly loses five shillings worth of tinie, loses 
five shillings, and might as prudently throw fiv© shil- 
lings into the sea. 

P5 



i7'i» ESSAYS. 

He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, 
but all the advantage that might be made by turning 
it in dealing, which by the time that a young man 
becomes old, will amount to a considerable sum of 
money. 

Again : he that sells upon credit, asks a price for 
what he sells equivalent to the principal and interest of 
his money for the time he is to be kept out of it ; 
therefore, he that buys upon credit, pays interest for 
what he buys ; and he that pays ready money, might 
let that money out to use ; so that he that possesses 
any thing he has bought, pays interests for the use of 
it. 

Yet in buying goods it is best to pay ready money, 
because he that sells upon credit, expects to lose five 
per cent, by bad debts ; therefore he charges, on all hie 
sells upon credit, an advance that s^bail make up that 
dejficiency. 

Those who pay for what they buy upon credit pay 
their share of this advance. 

He that pays ready money, escapes, or may escape, 
that charge. 



A penny sav*d is two-pence clear ; 
A pin a day*s a gi'oat a year. 



THE WAY TO MAKE MONEY PLENTY IN 
EVERY MAN'S POCKET, 

AT this time, when the general complaint is that 
— .*< money is scarce," it wilf be an act of kindness to 
inform the moneyless how they may reinforce their' 
pockets. I will acquaint them with the true secret of 
money-catching — the certain way to fill empty purses 
—and how to keep them always full. Two simple 
rules, well observed, will do the business. 



ESSAYS. If 3 

First, let honesty and industry be thy constant com- 
panions ; and. 

Secondly, spend one penny less than thy clear 
gains. 

Then shall thy hide-bound pocket soon begin to 
thrive, and will never again cry with the empty bellyr 
ache ; neither will creditors insult thee, nor want op- 
press, nor hunger bite, nor nakedness freeze thee. The 
whole hemisphere will shine brighter, and pleasure 
spring up in every corner of thy heart. Now^ there- 
fore, embrace these rules and be happy. Banish the 
bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and live inde- 
pendent. Then shalt thou be a man, and not hide thy 
face at the approach of the rich, nor suffer the pain of 
feeling little when the sons of fortune walk at thy right 
hand : for independency, whether with little or much, 
is good fortune, and placeth thee on even ground with 
the proudest of the golden fleece. Oh then, be wise, 
and let industry walk with thee in the morning, and 
attend thee until thou reachest the evening hour for 
rest. Let honesty be as the breath of thy soul, and 
never forget to have a penny, when, all thy expences 
are enumerated and paid ; then shalt thou reach the 
point of happiness, and independence shall be thy shield 
and buckler, thy helmet and crown ; then shall thy soul 
walk upright, nor stoop to the silken wretch because he 
hath riches, nor pocket an abuse because the hand which 
offers it wears a ring set with diamonds. 



1^6 ESSAYS. 



AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT. 



[A Translation of this letter appeared in one of the 
Daily Papers of Paris, about the Year 1784. The 
following is the original Piece, with some Additions 
and Corrections made in it by the Author,] 



To the Authors of the Journal. 

MESSIEURS, 

YOU often entertain us with accounts of new disco- 
veries. Permit me to communicate to the public, 
thiough your paper, one that has lately, been made by 
myself, and which I conceive may be of great utility. 

I was the other evening in a grand company, where 
the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was in- 
troduced, and much admired for its splendor ; but a 
general enquiry was made, whether the oil it consumed, 
was not in proportion to the light it afforded, in which 
case there would be no saving in the use of it. No one 
present could satisfy us in that point, which all agreed 
ought to be keown, it being a very desirable thing ta 
lessen, if possible, the expence of lighting our apart- 
ments, when every other article of family expence was 
so much augmented. 

I was pleased to see this general concern for oecono- 
my ; for I love ceconomy exceedingly. 

I went home> and to bed, three or four hours after 
midnight, with my head full of the subject. An ac- 
cidental sudden noise waked me about six in the morn- 



I 



ESSAYS. ;l7f 

ing, when I was surprised to find my room filled wkh 
light ; and I imagined at first, that a number of those 
lamps had been brought into it : but rubbing my eyes, 
I perceived the light came in at the windows. I got up 
and looked out to see what might be the occasion of it, 
when I saw the sun just rising above the horizon, from 
whence he poured his rays plentifully into my chamber ; 
my domestic having negligently omitted the preceding 
evening to close the shutters. 

I looked at my watch, wkich goes very well, and 
found that it was but six o'clock ; and still thinking it 
something extraordinary that the sun should rise so 
early, I looked into the almanack ; where I found it 
to be the hour given for his rising on that day. I 
looked forward too, and found he was to rise still ear- 
lier every day till toward the end of June ; and that 
at no time in the year he retarded his rising so long 
as till eight o'clock. Your readers, who with me have 
never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, and sel- 
dom regard the astronomical part of the almanack, will 
be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his 
rising so early ; and especially when I assure them 
that he gives light as soon as he rises. I am convinced 
of this. I am certain of the fact. One cannot be more 
certain of any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And 
having repeated this observation the three following 
mornings, I found always precisely the same result. 

Yet it so happens, that when 1 speak of this discove- 
ry to others, I can easily perceive by their counte- 
nances, though they forbear expressing it in words, 
that they do not quite believe me. One, indeed, who 
is a learned natural philosopher, has assured me, that 
I must certainly be mistaken as to the circumstance of 
the light coming into my room : for it being well 
known, as he says, that there could be no light abroad 
at that hour, it follows that none could enter from 
without : and that of consequence, my windows being 
accidentally left open, instead of letting in the light, 
had only served to let out the darkness : and he used 



178 ESSAYS. 

many ingenious arguments to shew mc how I might, 
by that means, have been deceived. I ovv'n that he 
puzzled me a little, but he did not satisfy me ; and 
the subsequent observations I made, as above mention- 
ed, confirmed me in my first opinion. 

This event has given rise, in my mind, to several 
serious and important reflections. I considered that, 
if I had not been av^akened so early in the morning, 
I should have slept six hours longer by the light of- the 
sun, and in exchange have lived six hours the follow- 
ing night by candle-light ; and the latter being a much 
more expensive light than the former, my love of oeco-- 
nomy induced me to muster up what little arithmetic 
I was master of, and to make some calculations, which 
I shall give you, after observing, that utility is, in my 
opinion, the test of value in matters of invention, and 
that a discovery which can be applied to no use, or is 
not good for something, is good for nothing. 

I took for the basis of my calculation the supposi- 
tion that there are 100,000 families in Paris, and that 
these families consume in the night half a pound of 
bougies, or candles per hour. I think this is a mo- 
derate allowance, taking one family with another ; 
for though I believe some consume less, I know that 
many consume a great deal more. Then estimating 
seven hours per day, as the medium quantity between 
the time of the sun*s rising and ours, he rising during 
the six following months from six to eight hours be- 
fore noon, and there being seven hours of course per 
night in which we burn candles, the account will stand 
thus— 

In the six months between the twentieth of March 
and the twentieth of September, there are 

Nights - 183 

Hours of each night in which we burn 

candles 7 



Multiplication gives for the total num- 
ber of hours ..---- i.^81 



ESSAYS. 179 

These IjSai hours multiplied by 100,000 

the number of inhabitants, give - - 128,100,000 

One hundred twenty-eight millions and 
one hundred thousand hours, spent at 
Paris by candle-light, which, at half a 
pound of wax and tallow per hour, 
gives the weight of 64,050,000 

Sixty-four millions and fifty thousand of 
pounds, which, estimating the whole 
at the medium price of thirty sols the 
pound, make the sum of ninety-six 
millions and seventy-five thousand 
livres tournois - - 96,075,000 

An immense sum ! that the city of Paris might save 
every year, by the oeconomy of using sunshine instead 
of candles. 

If it should be said, that the people are apt to be 
obstinately attached to old customs, and that it will be 
difficult to induce them to rise before noon, conse- 
quently my discovery can be of little use ; I answer. 
Nil desfierandum. I believe all who have common 
sense, as soon as they have learnt from this paper that 
it is day-light when the sun rises, will contrive to rise 
with him ; and to compel the rest, I would propose the 
following regulations : 

First. Let a tax be laid of a lois per window, on 
every window that is provided with shutters to keep 
out the light of the sun. 

Second. Let the same salutary operation of police 
be made use of to prevent our burning candles, that 
inclined us last winter to be more osconomical in burn- 
ing wood; that is, let guards be placed in the shops 
of the wax and tallow-chandlers, and no family be per- 
mitted to be supplied with more than one pound of can- 
dles per week. 

Third. Let guards be posted to stop all the coaches, 
&c. that would pass the streets after sunset, except 
those of physicians, surgeons and midwives. 



ISO ESSAYS. 

Fourth. Every morning as soon as the sun rises, let 
all the bells in every church be set ringing ; and if that 
is not sufficient, let cannon be fired in every street, and 
wake the sluggards effectually, and make them open 
their eyes to see their true interest. 

All the difficulty will be in the first two or three 
days ; after which the reformation will be as natural 
and easy as the present irregularity : for, ce n*€st que 
Ic premier fias qui coute. Oblige a man to rise at four 
in the morning, and it is more than probable he shall 
go willingly to bed at eight in the evening ; and hav- 
ing had eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly 
at four the morning following. But this sum of 
ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres is 
not tlie whole of what may be saved by my ceconomical 
projeet. You may observe, that I have calculated upon 
only one half the year, and much may be saved in the 
otner, though the days are shorter. Besides, the im- 
mense stock of wax and tallow left unconsumed during 
the summer, will probably make candles much cheaper 
for the ensuing winter, and continue cheaper as long as 
*he proposed reformation shall be supported. 

For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely 
communicated and bestowed by me on the public, I 
demand neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, nor 
any other reward whatever. I expect only to have the 
honour of it. And yet I know there are little envi- 
ous minds who will, as usual, deny me this, and say 
that my invention was known to the ancients, and 
perhaps they may bring passages out of the old books 
in proof of it. I will not dispute with these people 
that the ancients knew not the sun would rise at cer- 
tain hours ; they possibly had, as we have, almanacks 
that predicted it ; but it does not follow from thence 
that they knew he gave light as noon as he rose. This 
is what I claim as my discovery. If the ancients 
knew it, it must long since have been forgotten, for 
it certainly was unknown to the moderns, at least to 
the Parisians ; which to prove I need use but one plain 
simple argument. I'hey are as well instructed, judi-; 



ESSAYS. • rsi 

cious, and prudent a people as exist any where in the 
world, all professing, like myself, to be lovers of (Eco- 
nomy ; and, from the many heavy taxes required from 
them by the necessities of the state, have surely reason 
to be oeconomical. I say it is impossible that so sensi- 
ble a people, under such circumstances should have 
lived so long by the smoky, unwholesome, and enor- 
mously expensive light of candles, if they had really 
known that they might have had as much pure light of 
the sun for nothing. 

I am, Sec, 

AN ABONNE. 



ON MODERN INNOVATIONS. 

IN THE 

ENGLISH LANGUAGE, AND IN 

PRINTING 

To NoAH Webster, Jun. Esq. at Hartford. 

Philadelphia, Dec. 26, 1789. 

liear Sir, 

I RECEIVED, some time since, your Dissertations 
on the English Language, It is an excellent work, 
and will be greatly useful in turning the thoughts of 
our countrymen to correct writing. Please to accept 
ray thanks for it, as well as for the great honour you 
have done me in its dedication, I ought to have made 
this acknowledgment sooner, but much indisposition 
prevented me. 

I cannot but applaud your zeal fpr preserving the 
purity of our language both in its expression and pro- 

Q 



182 ESSAYS, 

nunciation, and in correcting the popular errors seve«> 
ral of our states are continually falling into with res* 
pect to both. Give me leave to mention some of them, 
though possibly they may already have occurred to 
you. I wish, however, that in some future publica- 
tion of yours you would set a discountenancing mark 
upon them, The first I remember, is the word im- 
firoved. When I left New-England in the year 1723, 
this word had never been used among us, as far as I 
know, but in the sense of ameliorated^ or made better^ 
except once in a very old book of Dr. Mathers, enti- 
tled, Remarkable fir ovidences. As that man wrote a 
very obscure hand, I remember that when I read 
that word in his book, used instead of the word em- 
ployed^ I conjectured that it was an error of the prin- 
ter, who had mistaken a short / in the writing for an 
r and a y with too short a tail for a v^ whereby em- 
ployed was converted into improved : but when I re- 
turned to Boston in 1733, I found this change had ob- 
tained favour, and was then become common ; for I 
;tnet with it often in perusing the newspapers, where 
it frequently made an appearance rather ridiculous. 
Such, for instance, as the advertisement of a country 
house to be sold, which had been many years improved 
as a tavern ; and in the character of a deceased coun- 
try gentleman, that he had been, for more than thirty 
years, improved as a justice of the peace. This use of 
the word improve is peculiar to New-England, and not 
to be met with among any other speakers of English, 
either on this or the other side of the water. 

During my late absence in France, I find that seve- 
ral other new words have been introduced into our 
pariiamentary language. For example, I find a verb 
formed from the substantive notice* I should not have 
noticed this^ ivhere it not that the gentleman^ &c. Al- 
so another verb from the substantive advocate ; The 
gentleman who advocates, or who has advocated that 
inotion^ 8cc. Another from the substantive progress^ 
the most awkward and abominable of the three : The 
':Qru?nUtee having progressed, resolved to adjourn. The 



ESSAYS. "183 

word ofifiosedy though not a new word, I find used in a 
new manner, as, The gentlemen tvho are opposed to this 
measure, to which I have also myself alivay ft been oppos* 
cd. If you should happen to be of my opinion with 
respect to these innovations, you will use your autho- 
rity in reprobating them. 

The Latin language, long the vehicle used in dis- 
tributing knowledge among the different nations of 
Europe, is daily more and more neglected ; and one 
of the modern tongues, viz. French, seem in point of 
universality, to have supplied its place. It is spoken 
in all the courts of Europe; and most of the literati, 
those even who do not speak it, have acquired a know- 
ledge of it, to enable them easily to read the books 
that are written in it. This gives a considerable ad- 
vantage to that nation. It enables its authors to incul- 
cate and spread through other nations, such sentiments 
and opinions, on important points, as are most condu- 
cive to its interests, or which may contribute to its re- 
putation, by promoting the common interests, of man- 
kind. It is, perhaps, owing to its being written in 
French, that Voltaire's Treatise on Toleration has had 
so sudden and so great an effect on the bigotry of Eu- 
rope, as almost entirely to disarm it. The general use 
of the French language has likewise a very advanta- 
geous effect on the profits of the bookselling branch of 
commerce, it being well known, that the more copies 
can be sold that are struck off from one composition of 
types, the profits increase in a much greater proportion 
than they do in making a greater number of pieces in 
any other kind of manufacture. And at present there 
is no capital town in Europe without a French booksel- 
ler's shop corresponding with Paris. Our English bids 
fair to obtain the second place. The great body of ex- 
cellent printed sermons in our language, and the free- 
dom of our writings on political subjects, have induced 
a great number of divines of different sects and nations, 
as well as gentlemen concerned in public affairs to stu- 
dy it, so far at least as to read it. And if v/e \vere to 



184 ESSAYS. 

endeavour the facilitating its progress, the study of our 
tongue might become much more general. Those 
who have employed some part of their time in learning 
a new language, must have frequently observed, that 
while their acquaintance with it was imperfect, diffi- 
culties, small in themselves, operated as great ones in 
obstructing their progress. A book for example, ill 
printed, or a pronunciation in speaking not well arti- 
culated, would render a sentence unintelligible, which 
from a clear print, or a distinct speaker, would have 
heen immediately comprehended. If therefore, we 
would have the benefit of seeing our language more 
generally known among mankind, we should endeavour 
to remove all the difficulties, however small, that dis- 
courage the learning of it. But I am sorry to observe, 
that of late years, those difficulties, instead of being 
diminished, have been augmented. 

In examining the English books that were printed 
between the restoration and the accession of George the 
Second, we may observe, that all substantives were be- 
gun with a capital, in which we imitated our mother 
tongue, the German. This was more particularly 
xiseful to those who were not well acquainted with the 
English, there being such a prodigious number of our 
words that are both verbs and substantives, and spelt 
in the same manner, though often accented differently 
in pronunciation. This method has, by the fancy of 
printers, of late years, been entirely laid aside ; from 
an idea, that suppressing the capitals shews the charac- 
ter to greater advantage ; those letters, prominent 
above the line, disturbing its even, regular appearance. 
The effect of this change is so considerable, that a 
learned man in France, who used to read our books, 
though not perfectly acquainted with our language, in 
conversation with me on the subject of our authors, 
attributed the greater obscurity he found in our mo- 
dern books, compared with those written in the period 
above mentioned, to change of style for the worse in 
our writers ; of which mistake I convinced him, by 
marking for him each substantive with a capital, in a 



ESSAYS. 185 

paragraph, which he then easily understood, though be- 
fore he could not comprehend it. This shews the in- 
convenience of that pretended improvement. 

From the same fondness for an uniform and even 
appearance of characters in the line, the printers have 
of late banished also the Italic types, in which words of 
importance to be attended to in the sense of the sen- 
tence, and words on which an emphasis should be put 
in reading, used to be printed. And lately another 
fancy has induced other printers to use the round s in- 
stead of the long one, which formerly served well to 
disjinguish a word readily by its varied appearance. 
Certainly the omitting this prominent letter makes a 
line appear more even, but it renders it less immedi- 
ately legible ; as the paring of all men*s noses might 
smooth and level their faces, but would render their 
physiognomies less distinguishable. Add to all these 
improvements backwards, another modern fancy, that 
grey printing is more beautiful than black. Hence 
the English new books are printed in so dim a charac- 
ter, as to be read with difficulty by old eyes, unless 
in a very strong light, and with good glasses. Who- 
ever compares a volume of the Gentleman's Magazine, 
printed between the years 1731 and 1740, with one 
of those printed in the last ten years, will be convinced 
of the much greater degree of perspicuity given by 
black than by the grey. Lord Chesterfield pleasantly 
remarked this diiference to Faulkener, the printer of 
the Dublin Journal, who was vainly making encomiums 
on his own paper, as the most complete of any in the 
world. " But Mr. Faulkener,'* says my lord, <* don't 
** you think it might be still farther improved, by using 
" paper and ink not quite so near of a colour." — For 
all these reasons I cannot but wish that our American 
printers would, in their editions, avoid these fancied 
improvements, and thereby render their works more 
agreeable to foreigners in Europe, to the great advan- 
tage of our bookselling commerce. 

Farther, to be more sensible of the advantage of 
clear and distinct printing, let us consider the assistance 

Q 2 



18*6 ESSAYS* 

it affords in reading well aloud to an auditory. In so 
doing the eye generally slides forward three or four 
words before the voice. If the sight clearly distin- 
guishes what the coming words are, it gives time to 
alter the modulation of the voice, to express them pro- 
perly. But if they are obscurely printed, or disguised 
by omitting the capitals and long f*s, or otherwise, the 
reader is apt to modulate wrong, and finding he has 
done so, he is obliged to go back and begin the sen- 
tence again ; which lessens the pleasure of the hearers. 
This leads me to mention an old error in our mode of 
printing. We are sensible that when a question is met 
with in the reading, there is a proper variation to be 
used in the management of the voice. We have, there- 
fore, a point, called an interrogation, affixed to the 
question, in order to distinguish it. But this is absurdly 
placed at its end, so that the reader does not discover 
it till he finds that he has wrongly modulated his voice, 
and is therefore obliged to begin again the sentence. 
To prevent this, the Spanish printers, more sensibly, 
place an interrogation at the beginning as well as at 
the end of the question. We have another error of the 
same kind in printing plays, where some thing often 
occurs that is marked as spoken as/rfe.— But the word 
aside is placed at the end of the speech, when it ought 
to precede it, as a direction to the reader, that he may 
govern his voice accordingly. The practice of our 
ladies in meeting five or six together, to form little 
busy parties, where each is employed in some useful 
work, while one reads to them, is so commendable in 
Itself, that it deserves the attention of authors and prin- 
ters to make it as pleasing as possible, both to the 
readers and hearers. 

My best wishes attend you, being, with sincere 
esteem, 

Sir, your most obedient and 
very humble servant, 

B. FRANKLIN, 



ESSAYSl 187 

AN ACCOUNT OF THE HIGHEST COURT OF JUDICATURE 
IN PENNSYLVANIA, VIZ. 

THE COURT OF THE PRESS, 



Power of this CourL 

It may receive and promulgate accusations of all 
kinds, against all persons and characters among the 
citizens oP^he state, and even against all inferior 
courts ; and may judge, sentence, and condemn to in- 
famy, not only private individuals, but public bodies^ 
&c. with or without inquiry or hearing, at the court's 
discretion. 

Whose favouTi or for whose emolument this court is <?«• 
tablished* 

In favour of about one citizen in five hundred, who 
by education, or practice in scribbling, has acquired 
a tolerable style as to grammar and construction, so as 
to bear printing ; or who is possessed of a press and a 
few types. This five hundredth part of the citizens 
have the privilege of accusing and abusing the other 
four hundred and ninety-nine parts at their pleasure ; 
or they may hire out their pens and press to others, for 
that purpose. 

Practice of this Court, 

It is not governed by any of the rules of the com- 
mon courts of law. The accused is allowed no grand 



188 ESSAYS. 

jury to judge of the truth of the accusation before it 
is publicly made ; nor is the name of the accuser made 
known to him ; nor has he an opportunity of confront- 
ing the witnesses against him, for they are kept in the 
dark, as in the Spanish court of inquisition. Nor is 
there any petty jury of his peers sworn to try the truth 
of the charges. The proceedings are also sometimes 
so rapid, that an honest good citizen may find himself 
suddenly and unexpectedly accused, and in the same 
morning judged and condemned, and sentence pro- 
nounced against him that he is a rogue and a villain. 
Yet if an officer of this court receives the slightest 
check for misconduct in this his office, he claims im- 
mediately the rights of a free citizen by ti\e constitu- 
tion, and demands to know his accuser, to confront the 
witness, and to have a fair trial by a jury of his peers, 

The foundation of its -authority. 

It is said to be founded on an article in the state 
constitution, which establishes the liberty of the press 
—a liberty which every Pennsylvanian would fight and 
die for, though few of us, I believe, have distinct 
ideas of its nature and extent, It seems, indeed, some- 
what like the liberty of the press, that felons have, by 
the common law of England before conviction ; that 
is, to be either pressed to death or hanged. If, by the 
liberty of the press, were understood merely the liberty 
of discussing the propriety of public measures and po- 
litical opinions, let us have as much of it as you please ; 
but if it means the liberty of affronting, calumniating, 
and defaming one another, I, for my part, own myself 
willing to part with my share of it, whenever our legis- 
lators shall please to alter the law : and shall cheerfully 
consent to exchange my liberty of abusing others, for 
the privilege of not being abused myself. 



ESSAYS* 1$9 

By nofiom this court is commissioned or constituted. 

It has not any commission from the supreme exe- 
cutive council, who might previously judge of the abi- 
lities, integrity, knowledge, &c. of the person to be 
appointed to this great trust of deciding upon the cha- 
racters and good fame of the citizens : for this court 
is above that council, and may accuse, judge, and con- 
demn it at pleasure. Nor is it hereditary, as in the 
court of dernier resort in the peerage of England. 
But any man who can procure pen, ink, and paper, 
with a press, a few types, and a huge pair of blacking 
balls, may commissionate himself, and his court is im- 
mediately established in the plenary possession and ex- 
ercise of its rights. For if you make the least com- 
plaint of the judge's conduct, he daubs his blacking 
balls in your face wherever he meets you, and besides 
tearing your private character to splinters, marks you 
out for the odium of the public, as an enemy to the 
liberty of the press. 

Of the natural aufifiort of this court. 

Its support is founded in the depravity of such minds 
as have not been mended by religion or improved by 
good education. 

There is a lust in man no charm can tame. 
Of loudly publishing his neighbour's shame. 

Hence, 

On eagle's wings, immortal scandals fly. 
While virtuous actions are but bom to die. 

Whoever feels pain in hearing a good character of 
his neighbour, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And 
of those who, despairing to rise to distinction by their 
virtues, are happy if others can be depressed to a level 
with themselves, there are a number sufficient in eve- 
ry great town to maintain one of these courts by their 
subscription. A shrewd observer once said, that in 



IdO ESSAYS. 

walking the streets of a slippery morning, one might 
see where the good-natured people lived, by the ashes 
thrown on the ice before the doors : probably he would 
have formed a different ecnjecture of the temper of 
those whom he might find engaged in such subscrip- 
tions. 

Of the checks firofier to be established against the abuses 
of flow er in those courts* 

Hitherto there are none. But since so much has 
been written and published on the federal constitution ; 
and the necessity of checks, in all other parts of good 
government, has been so clearly and learnedly explain- 
ed, I find myself so far enlightened as to suspect some 
check may be proper in this part also : but I have been 
at a loss to imagine any that may not be construed an 
infringement of the sacred liberty of the press. At 
length, however, I think I have found one, that, in- 
stead of diminishing general liberty, shall augment it ; 
which is, by restoring to the people a species of liberty 
of which they have been deprived by our law, I mean 
the liberty of the cudgel ! In the rude state of society, 
prior to the existence of laws, if one man gave ano- 
ther ill language? the affronted person might return it 
by a box on the ear ; and if repeated, by a good drub- 
bing ; and this without offending against any law ; but 
now the right of making such returns is denied, and 
they are punished as breaches of the peace, while the 
right of abusing seems to remain in full force ; the 
laws made against it being rendered ineffectual by the 
liberty of the press. 

My proposal then is, to leave the liberty of the press 
untouched, to be exercised in its full extent, force, and 
vigour, but to permit the liberty of the cudgel to go 
with it, pari fiassu. Thus my fellow citizens, if an im- 
pudent writer attacks your reputation— dearer per- 
haps to you than your life, and puts his name to 
the charge, you may go to him as openly and break his 
head. If he conceals himself behind the printer, and 



ESSAYS. 191 

you can nevertheless discover who he is, you may in 
like manner, waylay him in the night, attack him be- 
hind, and give him a good drubbingi^ If your adversa- 
ry hires better writers than himself, to abuse you more 
effectually, you may hire brawny porters, stronger than 
yourself, to assist you in giving him a more effectual 
drubbing. Thus far goes my project, as to a firivate 
resentment and retribution. But if the public should 
ever happen to be affronted, as it ought to be, with the 
conduct of such writers, I would not advise proceeding 
immediately to these extremities, but that we should 
in moderation content ourselves with tarring and fea- 
thering, and tossing them in a blanket. 

If, however, it should be thought that this proposal 
of mine may disturb the public peace, I would then 
humbly recommend to our legislators to take up the 
consideration of both liberties, that of the press, and 
that of the cudgel : and by an explicit law mark their 
extent and limits : and at the same time that they secure 
the person of a citizen from assaults, they would like- 
wise provide for the security of his reputation. 



PAPER : A POEM. 



SOME wit of old— such wits of old there were— 
Whose hints show'd meaning, whose allusions care, 
By one brave stroke to mark all human kind, 
Call'd clear blank paper ev'ry infant mind ; 
When still, as op'ning sense her dictates wrote, 
Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot. 

The thought was happy, pertinent, and true ; 
Methinks a genius might the plan pursue, 
I, (can you pardon my presumption ? I — ) 
No witj no genius, yet for once will try* 



192 ESSAT^S.' 

Various the papers various wants produccj 
The wants of fashion, elegance, and use. 
Men are as various : and, if right I scan, 
Each sort oifiafier represents some man. 

Pray note the fop — half powder and half lace — ■ 
Nice, as a band-box were his dwelling-place ; 
He*s the gilt fiafier^ which apart you store, 
And lock from vulgar hands in the 'scrutoire. 

Mechanics, servants, farmers> and so forth, 
Are cofiy fiafier of inferior worth ; 
Less priz'd, more useful, for your desk decreed, 
Free to all pens, and prompt at ev'ry need. 

The wretch whom av*rice bids to pinch and sparcj 
Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, 
Is coarse brown paper ; such as pedlars choose 
To wrap up wares, which better men will use. 

Take next the miser's contrast, who destroys 
Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys. 
Will any paper match him ? Yes, throughout, 
He's a true sinking paper past all doubt. 

The retail politician's anxious thought 
Deems this side always right, and that stark nought; 
He foams with censure ; with applause he raves — 
A dupe to rumours, and a tool of knaves ; 
He'll want no type his weakness to proclaim^ 
While such a thing qs/ooIs-cqP has a name. 

The hasty gentleman, whose bloods runs high, 
Who picks a quarrel, if you step a-wry, 
Who can't a jest, or hint, or look endure : 
What's he ? What ? Touch-paper to be sure. 

What are our poets, take them as they fall ; 
Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at all ; 
Them and their works in the same class you'll find j 
They are the mere ivaste-paper of mankind. 

Observe the maiden, innocently sweet, 
She's fair nvhite-paper, an unsullied sheet : 
On which the happy man whom fate ordains, 
May write his naine^ and take her for his pains. 



ESSAYS. 193 

One instance more, and only one I'll bring ; 
*Tis the Great Man who scorns a little thing, 
Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are his 

own, 
Form'd on the feelings of his heart alone : 
True genuine royal-fiafier is his breast ; 
Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best. 



ON TBIE ART OF SWIMMING. 



In answer to some inquiries of M. Dubourg* on the 
subject. 

I AM apprehensive that I shall not be able to find 
leisure for making all the disquisitions and experiments 
which would be desirable on this subject. I must there- 
fore, content myself with a few remarks. 

The specific gravity of some human bodies, in com- 
parison to that of water, has been exumined by M. 
Robinson, in our Philosophic^ Transactions, volume 
50, page 30, for the year {7b7, He asserts, that fat 
persons with small bones float most easily upon water. 

The diving be His accurately described in our Trans- 
actions. 

When I was a boy, I made two oval pallets, each 
about ten inches long, and six broad, with a hole for 
the thumb, in order to retain it fast in the palm of 
my hand. They much resemble a painter's pallets. 
In swimming I pushed the edges of these forward, 
and I struck the water with their flat surfj^ces as I 

* Translator of Dr. Franklin's works into French. 
R 



194 ESSAYS. 

drew them back. I remember I swam faster by means 
of these pallets, but they fatigued my wrists — I also 
fitted to the soles of my feet a kind of saiidals ; but I 
was not satisfied with them, because I observed that 
the stroke is partly given with the inside of the feet 
and the ancles, and not entirely with the soles of the 
feet. 

We have here waistcoats for swimming, which are 
made of double sail-cloth, with small pieces of cork 
quilted in between them. 

I know nothing of the scafihandre of M. de la 
Chappelle. 

I know by experience that it is a great comfort to 
a swimmer, who has a considerable distance to go, 
to turn himself sometimes on his back, and to vary 
in other respects the means of procuring a progressive 
motion. 

When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the me- 
thod of driving it away is to give to the parts affected a 
sudden vigorous, and violent shock ; which he may do 
in the air as he swims on his back. 

During the great heats of summer there is no dan- 
ger in bathing, however warm we may be, in rivers 
which have been thoroughly warmed by the sun. But 
to throw oneself into cold spring water, when the body 
has been heated by exercise in the sun, is an impru- 
dence which may prove fatal. I once knew an in- 
stance of four young men, who, having worked at har» 
vest in the heat of the day, with a view of refreshing 
them.selves plunged into a spring of cold water : two 
died upon the spot, a third the next morning, and the 
fourth recovered with great difficulty. A copious 
dranjght of cold water, in similar circumstances, is fre- 
quently attended with the same effect in North Ame- 
rica. 

The exercise of swimming is one of the most heal- 
thy and agreeable in the world. After having swam 
for an hour or two in the evening, one sleeps coolly 
the whole night, even during the most ardent heat of 
summer. Perhaps the pores being cleansed, the in- 



ESSAYS. 195 

sensible perspiration increases an^ occasions tills cool- 
ness.— It is certain that much swimming is the means 
of stopping a diarrhoea, and even of producing a con- 
stipation. With respect to those who do not know 
how to swim, or who are affected with a diarrhoea at 
a season which does not permit them to use that ex- 
ercise, a warm bath by cleansing and purifying the 
skin, is found very salutary, and often effects a radi- 
cal cure. I speak from my own experience, frequent- 
ly repeated, and that of others to whom I have 
recommended this. 

You will not be displeased if I conclude these hasty 
remarks by informing you, that as the ordinary me- 
thod of swimming is reduced to the act of rowing 
with the arms and legs, and is consequently a labori- 
ous and fatiguing operation when the space of water 
to be crossed is considerable ; there is a method in 
which a swimmer may pass to great distances with 
much facility by means of a sail. This discovery I 
fortunately made by accident, and in the following 
manner : 

When I was a boy I amused myself one day with 
flying a paper kite ; and approaching the bank of a 
pond which was near a mile broad, I tied the string 
to a stake, and the kite ascended to a very considera- 
ble height above the pond, while I was swimming. 
In a little time, being desirous of amusing myself 
with my kite, and enjoying at the same time the plea- 
sure of swimming, I returned ; and loosing from the 
stake the string with the little stick which was fasten- 
ed to it, went again into the water, where I found, 
that lying on my back, and holding the stick in my 
hands, I was drawn along the surface of the water in 
a very agreeable manner. Having then engaged ano- 
ther boy to carry my clothes round the pond to a place 
which I pointed out to him on the ot^ier side, I began 
to cross the pond with my kite, which carried me 
quite over without the least fatigue, and with the 
greatest pleasure imaginable. I was only obliged oc- 
casionally to halt a little in my course, and resist its 



196 ESSAYS. 

progress j when it appeared that, by following too quick, 
I lowered the kite to much ; by doing which occa- 
sionally I made it rise again. I have never since that 
time practised this singular mode of swimming, though 
I think it not impossible to cross in this manner from 
Dover to Calais. The packet-boat, however, is still 
preferable, 



NEW MODE OF BATHING. 

KXTRACTS OF LETTERS TO M. DUBOURG. 

London, July 28, 1768. 



I GREATLY approve the epithet you give, in 
your letter of the 8th of June to the new method of 
treating the small-pox, which you call the eonic or 
bracing method ; I will take occasion, from it, to men- 
tion a practice to which I have accustomed myself. 
You know the cold bath has long been in vogue here 
as a tonic ; but the shock of the cold water has al- 
ways appeared to me, generally speaking, as too vio- 
lent ; and I have found it much more agreeable to my 
constitution to bathe in another element, I mean cold 
air. With this view I rise early almost every morn- 
ing, and sit in my chamber without any clothes what 
ever, half an hour or an hour, according to the season, 
either reading or writing. This practice is not in the 
least painful, but, on the contrary, agreeable ; and if I 
return to bed afterwards, before I dress myself, as some- 
times happens, I make a supplement to my night's rest 



ESSAYS. 197 

of one or two hours of the most pleasing sleep that can 
be imagined. I find no ill consequences whatever re- 
sulting from it, and that at least it does not injure my 
health, if it does not in fact contribute much to its pre- 
servation. I shall therefore call it for the future a bra- 
cing or tonic bath. 



March 10, 1773. 

I shall not attempt to explain why damp clothes oc- 
casion colds, rather than wet ones, because I doubt the 
fact; I imagine that neither the one nor the other 
contribute to this effect, and that the causes of colds 
are totally independent of wet and even of cold. I 
propose writing a short paper on this subject, the first 
leisure moment I have at my disposal. In the mean 
time I can only say, that having seme suspicions that 
the common notion, which attributes to cold the pro- 
perty of stopping the pores and obstructing perspira- 
tion, was ill-founded, I engaged a young physician, who 
is making some experiments with Sanctorius's balance, 
to estimate the different proportions of his perspiration, 
when remaining one hour quite naked, and another 
warmly clothed. ^He pursued the experiment in this 
alternate manner for eight hours successively, and 
found his perspiration almost double during those hours 
in which he was naked. 



198 ESSAYS. 

OBSERVATIONS ON THE GENERALLY PRE- 
VAILING DOCTRINES OF LIFE 
AND DEATH. 



^, 



TO THE SAME. 



YOUR observations on the causes of death, and 
the experiments which you propose for recalling to life 
those who appear to be killed by lightnings, demonstrate 
equally your sagacity and humanity. It appears that 
the doctrines of life and death, in general, are yet but 
little understood. 

A toad, buried in sand, will live, it is said, until 
the sand becomes petrified ; and then, being inclosed 
m the stone, it may still live for we know not how 
many ages. The facts which are cited in support of 
this opinion, are too numerous and too circumstantial 
not to deserve a certain degree of credit. As we are 
accustomed to see all the animals with which we are 
acquainted eat and drink, it appears to us difficult to 
conceive how a toad can be supported in such a durt- 
geon. But if we reflect, that the necessity of nourish- 
ment, which animals experience in their ordinary state, 
proceeds from the continual waste of their substance by 
perspiration : it will appear less incredible that some 
animals in a torpid state, perspiring less because they 
iiss^fio exercise, should have less need of aliment; and 
that others, which are covered with scales or shells, which 
stop perspiration, such as land and sea turtles, serpents, 
and some species of fish, should be able to subsist a con- 
siderable time without any nourishment whatever. A 
plant, with its flowers, fades and dies immediately, if 
exposed to the air without haying its roots immersed in 



ESSAYS.' 199 

a humid soil, from wtiich it may draw a sufficient quan- 
tity of moisture, to supply that which exhales from its 
substance, and is carried off continually by the air. 
Perhaps, however, if it were buried in quicksilver, it 
might preserve, for a considerable space of time, its 
vegetable life, its smell and colour. If this be the case, 
it might prove a commodious method of transporting 
from different countries those dedicate plants which are 
unable to sustain the inclemency of the weather at sea, 
and which require particular care and attention. 

I have seen an instance of common flies preserved 
in a manner somewhat similar. They had been drown- 
ed in Madeira, wine, apparently about the time when 
it was bottled in Virginia, to be sent to London. At 
the opening of one of the bottles, at the house of a 
friend where I was, three drowned flies fell into the 
first glass which was filled. Having heard it remarked 
that drowned flies were capable of being revived by 
the rays of the sun, I proposed making the experi- 
ment upon these. They were therefore exposed td 
the sun, upon a sieve, which had been employed to 
strain them out of the wine. In less than three hours 
two of them began by degrees to recover life. They 
commenced by some convulsive motions in the thighs, 
and at length they raised themselves upon their legs, 
wiped their eyes with their fore feet, beat and brushed 
their wings with their hind feet, and soon after began 
to fly, finding themselves in Old England, without 
knowing how they came thither. The third continued 
lifeless until sunset, when, losing all hopes of him, he 
was thrown away. 

I wish it were possible, from this instance, to in- 
vent a method of embalming drowned persons, in such 
a manner that they might be recalled to life at any 
period, however distant ; for having a very ardent de- 
sire to see and observe the state of America an hun- 
dred years hence, I should prefer to an ordinary death, 
the being immersed in a cask of Madeira wine, with a 
few friends, until that time, then to be recalled to life 
by the solar warmth of my dear country. But since, 



200 ESSAtS. 

in all probability, we live in an age too early, and too 
near the infancy of science, to see such an art brought 
in our time to its perfection, I must, for the present, 
content myself with the treat, which you are so kind as 
to promise me, of the resurrection of a fowl or a turkey- 
cock. 



Precautions to be used by those who are about to under* 
take a Sea Voyage, 

WHEN you intend to take a long voyage, nothing 
is better than to keep it a secret till the moment of 
your departure. Without this, you will be continually 
interrupted and tormented by visits from friends and 
acquaintances, who not only make you lose your valua- 
ble time, but make you forget a thousand things which 
you wish to remember ; so that when you are embark- 
ed, and fairly at sea, you recollect, with much uneasi- 
ness, affairs which you have not terminated, accounts 
which you have not settled, and a number of things 
which you proposed to carry with you, and which you 
find the want of every moment. Would it not be at- 
tended with the best consequences, to reform such a 
custom ; and suffer a traveller, without deranging him, 
to make his preparations in quietness, to set a,part a 
few days, when these are finished, to take leave of his 
friends, and to receive their good wishes for his happy 
return ? 

It is not always in one's power to choose a captain ; 
though great part of the pleasure and happiness of the 
•passage depends upon this choice, and though one must 
•for a time be confined to his company, and be in some 
measure under his command. If he is a social sensible 
man, obliging, and of a good disposition, you will be 
80 much the happier. One sometimes meets with j>eo- 



ESSAYS* 201 

pie of this description, but they are not common ; how- 
ever, if yours be not of this number, if he be a good 
seaman, attentive, careful, and active in the management 
of his vessel, you may dispense with the rest, for these 
are the most essential qualities. 

Whatever right you may have, by your agreement 
with him, to the provisions he has taken on board for 
the use of the passengers, it is always proper to have 
some private store, which you may make use of occa- 
sionally. You ought, therefore, to provide good water, 
that of the ship being often bad j but you must put it 
into bottles, without which, you cannot expect to pre- 
serve it sweet. You ought also to carry with you 
good tea, ground coffee, chocolate, wine of the sort 
you like best, cyder, dried raisins, almonds, sugar, ca- 
pillaire, citrons, rum, eggs dipped in oil, portable soup, 
bread twice baked. With regard to poultry, it is almost 
useless to carry any with you, unless you resolve to un- 
tlertake the office of feeding and fattening them yourself. 
With the little care which is taken of them on board 
ship, they are almost all sickly, and their flesh, is as 
tough as leather. 

All sailors entertain an opinion, which has undoubt- 
edly originated formerly from a want of water, and 
when it has been found necessary to be sparing of it, 
that poultry never know when they have drank enough ; 
and that when water is given them at discretion, they 
generally kill themselves by drinking beyond measure. 
In consequence of this opinion, they give them water 
only once in two days, and even then in small quan- 
tities: but as they pour this water into troughs in- 
clining on one side, which occasions it to run to the 
lower part, it thence happens that they are obliged to 
mount one upon the back of another in order to reach 
it ; and there are some which cannot even dip their 
beaks in it. Thus continually tantalized and torment- 
ed by thirst, they are unable to digest their food, which 
is very dry, and they soon fall sick and die- Some 
of them are found thus every morning, and are thrown 
into the sea j whilst those which are killed for the table 



203 ESSAYS 

are scarcely fit to be eaten. To remedy this inconveni- 
ence, it will be necessary to divide their troughs into 
small compartments, in Sruch a manner that each of them 
may be capable of containing water ; but this is seldom 
or never done. On this account, sheep and hogs are to 
be considered as the best fresh provision that t^ne can 
have at sea ; mutton there being in general very good, 
and pork excellent. 

It may happen that some of the provisions and stores 
which I have recommended may become almost use- 
less, by the care which the captain has taken to lay in 
a proper stock ; but in such a case you may dispose of 
it to relieve the poor passengers, who, paying less for 
their passage, are stowed among the common sailors, 
and have no right to the captain's provisions, except 
such part of them as is used for feeding the crew.— — 
These passengers are sometimes sick, melancholy, and 
dejected ; and there are often women and children 
among them, neither of whom haive any opportunity of 
procuring those things which I have mentioned, and 
of whicbt perhaps, they have the greatest need. By 
distributing among them a part of your superfluity, you 
may be of the greatest assistance to them. You may 
restore their health, save their lives, and in short render 
them happy ; which always affords the liveliest sensation 
to a feeling mind. 

The most disagreeable thing at sea is the cookery j 
for there is not, properly speaking, any professed cook 
on board. The worst sailor is generally chosen for 
that purpose, who for the most part is equally dirty. 
Hence comes the proverb used among the English sai- 
lors, that God sends meat, and the Devil sends cooks. 
Those, however, who have a better opinion of Pro- 
vidence, will think otherwise. Knowing that sea air, 
and the exercise or motion which they receive from the 
rolling of the ship, have a wonderful effect in whetting 
the appetite, they will say that Providence has given 
sailors bad cooks to prevent them from eating too 
much; or that knowing they would have bad cooks, 
he has given them a good appetite to prevent them 



ESSAYS. 203 

from dying with hunger. However, if you have no 
confidence in these succours of Providence, you may 
yourself, with a lamp and boiler, by the help of a little 
spirits of wine, prepare some food, such as soup, hash, 
&c. A small oven, made of tin-plate, is not a bad piece 
of furniture ; your servant may roast in it a piece of 
mutton or pork. If you are ever tempted to eat salt 
beef, which is often very good, you will find that cyder 
is the best liquor to quench the thirst generally caused 
by salt meat or salt fish. Sea-biscuit, which is too hard 
for the teeth of some people, may be softened by steep- 
ing it ; but bread double baked is the best, for being 
made of good loaf-bread cut into slices, and baked a 
second time, it readily imbibes water, becomes soft, 
and is easily digested j it consequently forms excellent 
nourishment, much superior to that of biscuit, which 
has not been fermented. 

I must here observe, that this double-baked bread 
was originally the real buiscuit prepared to keep at sea ; 
for the word biscuit^ in French, signifies twice baked.* 
Pease often boil badly, and do not become soft ; in 
such a case, by putting a two-pound shot into the ket- 
tle, the rolling of the vessel, by means of this bullet, 
will convert the pease into a kind of porridge, like 
mustard. 

Having often seen soup, when put upon the table 
at sea in broad flat dishes, thrown out on every side by 
the rolling of the vessel, I have wished that our tin- 
men would make our soup-basons with divisions or com- 
partments, forming small plates, proper for contain- 
ing soup for one person only. By this disposition, the 
soup, in an extraordinary roll, would not be thrown out 
of the plate, and would not fall into the breasts of those 
who are at table and scald them. Having entertained 
you with these things of little importance, permit me 
row to convlude with some general reflections upon na- 
vigation. 

* It is derived from bis again, and cuit baked. 



204 ESSAY3. 

When navigation is employed only for transporting 
necessary provisions from one country, where they 
abound, to another were they are wanting ; when by 
this it prevents famines, which were so frequent and 
so fatal before it was invented and became so sommon ; 
we cannot help considering it as one of those arts which 
contribute most to the happiness of mankind. But 
when it is employed to transport things of no utility, or 
articles merely of luxury, it is then uncertain whether 
the advantages resulting from it are sufficient to coun* 
tcrbalance the misfortunes it occasions, by exposing the 
lives of so many individuals upon the vast ocean. And 
when it is used to plunder vessels and transport slaves^ 
it is evidently only the dreadful means of increasing 
those calamities which afflict human nature. 

One is astonished to think on the number of vessels 
and men who are daily exposed in going to bring tea 
from china, Coffee from Arabia, and sugar and tobacco 
from America ; all which commodities our ancestors 
lived very well without. The sugar-trade employs 
nearly a thousand vessels; and that of tobacco almost 
the same number. With regard to the utility of tobac- 
co, little can be said ; anci, with regard to sugar, how 
much more meritorious would it be to sacrifice the 
momentary pleasure which we receive from drinking 
it once or twice a-day in our tea, than to encourage the 
numberless cruelties that are continually exercised in 
order to procure it for us ? 

A celebrated French moralist said, that when he 
considered the wars which ],we foment in Africa to get 
negroes, the great number^who of course perish in these 
wars ; the multitude of those w^retches who die in their 
passage, by disease, bad air, and bad provisions ; and 
lastly, how many perish by the cruel treatment they 
meet with in a state of slavery ; when he saw a bit of 
sugar, he could not help imagining it to be covered 
with spots of human blood. But, had he added to 
these considerations the wars which we carry on one 
against another, to take and retake the islands that 



ESSAYS. 20S 

produce this commodity, he would not have seen the 
su^ar simply s/iotted with blood, he would have beheld 
it entirely tinged with it. 

These wars make the maritime powers of Europe, 
and the inhabitants of Paris and London, pay much 
dearer for their sugar than those of Vienna, though 
they are almost three hundred leagues distant from the 
sea. A pound of su^^ar, indeed, costs the former not 
only the price which they give for it, but also what 
they pay in taxes, necessary to support those fleets and 
armies which serve to d^;fend und protect the countries 
that produce it. 



ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND INDUSTRY. 



From a Letter to Benjamin raugharif Eaq* nvrlttcn in 

ir84. 



IT is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of this 
world are managed. Naturally one would imagine 
that the interest of a few individuals should give way 
to general interest ; but individuals manage iheir af- 
fairs with so much more application, industry, and 
address, than the public do theirs, that general interest 
most commonly gives way to particular. We assemble 
parliaments and councils, to have the benefit of their 
collected wisdom ; but we necessarily have, at the 
same time, the inconvenience of their collected pas- 



* Present member of Parliament for the borough of Calne, in 
Wiltshire, between whom and our author tiiere subsisted a very 
close friendship. 

S 



208 ESSAYS. 

by what is seen aWione the inhabitants of the seJ^-ports, 
is judging from an improper Sctmple. The people of 
the trading towns niyy be rich and hixurious, while 
the country possesses all the virtues that tend to pro- 
mote hapj)iness and public prosperity. Those tov/ns 
are not much regarded by the country ; they are hard- 
ly considered as an esseniial part of the states ; and the 
experience of the h^A war has shown that their being 
in the possession of ihe enemy did not necessarily draw 
on the subjection ot the country, which bravely con- 
tinued to maintain its freedom and independence not- 
withstanding. 

It has been computed by some political arithmetician, 
that if every man and woman would work for four 
hours each day on something useful, that labour would 
produce sufficient to procure all the necessaries and 
comforts of life -: want and misery would be banished 
cut of the world; and the rest of the twenty-four hours 
might be leisure and pleasure. 

What occasions then so much want and misery ? It 
is the employ ment of men and women in works that 
produce neither the necessaries or conveniences of life, 
who, with those who do nothing, consume necessaries 
raised by the laborious. To explain this : 

The first elements of wealth are obtained by labour, 
from the earth and waters. I have land, and raise corn. 
With this, if 1 feed a family that does nothing, my 
corn will be consumed, and at the end of the year I 
shall be no richer than 1 was at the beginning. But 
if while I feed them, I employ them, some in spinning,, 
others in making bricks, he for buik!ing, the value of 
my corn will be arrested and remain with me, and at 
the end of the year we may be all better clothed and 
better lodged. Aiid if, instead of eniploying a man I 
feed in making bricks, I employ him in fiddling for me, 
the corn he eats is gone, and no part of his manufcic- 
ture remains to augment the wealth and convenience 
of the family ; I shall therefore be the poorer for this 
fiddling man, unless the rest of my family work 



ESSAYS. ^Q^ 

more, or eat less, to make up the deficiency he occa- 
sions. 

Look round the world, and see the millions em- 
ployed in doing nothing, or in something that amounts 
to nothing, when the necessaries and conveniences of 
life are in question. What is the bulk of commerce, 
for which we light and destroy each other, but the 
toil of millions for superfluities, to the great hazard 
and loss of many lives, by the constant dangers of the 
sea ? How much labour is spent in building and fitting 
great sliips, to go to China and Arabia for tea and cof- 
fee, to the West-Indies for sugar, to America for to- 
bacco ? These things cannot be called the necessaries 
of life, for our ancestors lived very comfortably with- 
out them. 

A question may be asked ; Could all these people 
now employed in raising, making, or carrying super- 
fluities, be subsisted by raising necessaries? I think they 
might. The world is large, and a great part of it 
still uncultivated. Many hundred millions of acres in 
Asia, Africa, and America, are still in a forest; and a 
great deal even in Europe. On a hundred acres of this 
forest, a man might become a substantial farmer ; and 
a hundred thousand men employed in clearing each his 
hundred acres, would hardly brighten a spot big enough 
to be visible from the moon, unless with Herschel*s 
telescope ; so vast are the regions still in wood. 

It is however some comfort to reflect, that, upon 
the whole, the quantity of industry and prudence a- 
mong mankind exceeds the quantity of idleness and 
folly. Hence the increase of good buildings, farms 
cultivated, and populous cities filled with wealthy all 
over Europe, which a few ages since were only tb 
be found on the coast of the Mediterranean ; and this 
notwithstanding the mad wars continually raging, by 
which are often destroyed in one year the works of ma- 
ny years peace. So that we may hope, the luxury o'f 
a few mercliants on the coast will not be the ruin of 
America. 

S2 



310 ESSAYS. 

One reflection more and I will end this long ram- 
bling letter. Almost all the parts of our bodies require 
some expense. The feet demand shoes ; the legs 
stockings ; the rest of the body clothing : and the belly 
a good deal of victuals. Our eyes, though exceedingly 
useful, ask, when reasonable, only the cheap assistance 
of spectacles, which could not much impair our finan- 
ces. . But the eyes of other people are the eyes that 
ruin us. If all but myself were blind, I should want 
neither fine clothes, fine houses, nor fine furniture. 



ON THE SLAVE TRADE. 



READING in the newspapers the speech of Ml*. 
Jackson in Congress, against meddling with the af- 
fair of slavery, or attempting to mend the condition of 
slaves, it put me in mind of a similar speech, made about 
an hundred years since, by Sidi Mehemet Ibrahim, a 
member of the Divan of Algiers, which may be seen 
in Martin's account of his consulship, 1687. It was 
against granting the Petition of the sect called Erika 
pr Furisls, who prayed for the abolition of piracy and 
slavery, as being unjust. — Mr. Jackson does not quote 
it ; perhaps he has not seen it. If, therefore, some of 
its reasonings are to be found in his eloquent speech, it 
may only shew that men's interests operate, and are 
operated on, with surprising similarity, in all countries 
and climates, whenever they are under similar circum- 
stances, The African speech, as translated, is as fol- 
lows ; 



ESSAYS. 2it 

"^ Alia Bismillah, 8cc. God is great, and Mahomet 
is his prophet. 

" Have these Erika considered the consequences of 
granting their petition ? 

" If we cease our cruises against the Christians, 
how shall we be furnished with the commodities 
their countries produce, and which are so necessary 
for use ? If we forbear to make slaves of their people, 
who, in this hot climate, are to cultivate our lands ? 
Who are to perform the common labours of our city, 
and of our families ? Must we not then be our own 
slaves ? And is there not more compassion and more 
favour due to us Mussulmen, than to those Christian 
dogs ? — We have now above fifty thousand slaves in 
and near Algiers. This number, if not kept up by 
fresh supplies, will soon diminish, and be gradually 
annihilated. If, then, we cease taking and plundering 
the infidel ships, and making slaves of the seamen and 
passengers, our lands will become of no value, for 
want of cultivation ; the rents of houses in the city will 
sink one half; and the revenues of government, arising 
from the share of prizes, must be totally destroyed ? — 
and for what ? To gratify the whim of a whimsical 
sect, who would have us not only forbear making more 
slaves, but even manumit those we have. But who is 
to indemnify their masters for the loss ? Will the 
state do it ? Is our treasury sufficient ? Will the Erika 
doit? Can they do it ? Or would they, to do what 
they think justice to the slaves, do a greater injustice 
to the owners ? And if we set our slaves free, what is 
to be done with them ? Few of them will return to 
their native countries ; they know too well the greater 
hardships they must there be subject to. They will 
not embrace our holy religion ; they will not adopt our 
manners : our people will not pollute themselves by 
intermarrying with them. Must we maintain them 
as beggars in our streets ; or suffer our properties to be 
the prey of their pillage ? For men accustomed to 
slavery, will not work for a livelihood, when not com- 
pelled — And what is there so pitiable in their present 
condition ? Were they not slaves in their own coun- 



21^ ESSAYS. 

tries ? Are not Spain, Portugal, France, and the 
Italian states governed by despots, who hold all their 
subjects in slavery, without exception ? Even England 
treats her sailors as slaves, for they are, whenever the 
government pleases, seized, and confined in ships of 
war, condemned not only to work, but to fight for 
small wages, or a mere subsistence, not better than our 
slaves are allowed by us. Is their condition then made 
worse by their falling into our hands? No: they 
have only exchanged one slavery for another ; and I 
may say a better ; for here they are brouj2;ht into a 
land where the sun of Islamism gives forth its light 
and shines in full splendor, and they have an opportu- 
nity of making themselves acquainted with the true 
doctrine, and thereby saving their immortal souls — 
Those who remain at home have not that happiness. 
Sending the slaves home, then, would be sending them 
out of light into darkness. 

*' I repeat the question, what is to be done with 
them ? I have heard it suggested, that they may be 
planted in the wilderness, where there is plenty of 
land for them to subsist on, and where they may flour- 
ish as a free state. — But they are, I doubt, too little 
disposed to labour without compulsion, as well as too 
ignorant to establish good government : and the wild 
Arabs would soon molest and destroy, or again enslave 
them. While serving us, we take care to provide^ 
them with every thing; and they are treated with hu- 
manity. The labourers of their own countries, are, 
as I am informed, worse fed, lodged, and clothed — 
The condition of most of them is therefore already 
mended, and requires no farther improvement. Here 
their lives are in safety. They are not liable to be im- 
pressed for soldiers, and forced to cut one another's 
Christian throats, as in the wars of their own countries. 
If some of the religious mad bigots who now teaze us 
with their silly petitions, have, in a fit of blind zeal, 
freed their slaves, it was not generosity, it was not 
humanity that moved them to the action ; it was from 
the conscious burthen of a load of sins, and hope, from 



ESSAYS. SIS 

the supposed merits of so good a work, to be excused 
from damnation. — How grossly are they mistaken in 
imagining slavery to be disavowed by the Alcoran ? 
Are not the two precepts, to quote no more, " Mas- 
ters, treat your slaves with kindness— Slaves, serve 
your masters with cheerfulness and fid{;lity,*' clear 
proofs to the contrary ? Nor can the plundering of 
infidels be in that sacred book forbiddeii : since it is 
well known from it, that God has given the world, and 
all that it contains, to his faithful Mufsuhrjen, who 
are to enjoy it, of right, as fast as they can conquer 
it. Let us then hear no more of this detestable propo- 
sition, the manumission of Christian slaves, the adop- 
tion of which would, by depreciating our lands and 
houses, and thereby depriving so many good citizens 
©f their properties, create universal discontent, and 
provoke insurrections, to the endangering of govern- 
ment, and producing general confusion, I have, there- 
fore, no doubt that this wise council will prefer the 
comfort and happiness of a whole nation of true be- 
lievers, to the whim of a few Erika, and dismiss their 
petition. 

The result was, as Martin tells us, that the Divan 
came to this resolution : " That the doctrine, that the 
" plundering and enslaving the Christians is unjust, 
" is at best problematical ; but that it is the interest of 
" this state to continue the practice, is clear ; there- 
" fore, let the petition be rejected.*' — And it was re- 
jected accordingly. 

And since like motives are apt to produce, in the 
minds of men, like opinions and resolutions, may we 
not venture to predict, from this account, that the pe- 
titions to the parliament of England for abolishing the 
slave-trade, to say nothing of other legislatures, and 
the debates upon them, will have a similar conclusion. 

HISTORICUS. 

March 23, 1790* 



214 ESSAYS. 



OBSERVATIONS ON WAR. 



By the original law of nations, war and extirpa- 
tion were the punishment of injury. Humaiiizing by 
degrees, it adnaitted slavery instead of death : a farther 
step was the exchange of prisoners instead of slavery ; 
another, to respect more the property of private per- 
sons under conquest, and be content with acquired do- 
minion. Why should not this law of nations go on 
improving ? Ages have intervened between its seve- 
ral steps : but as knowledge of late increases rapidly, 
why should not those steps be quickened ? Why should 
it not be agreed to, as the future law of nations, that 
in any war hereafter the following description of men 
should be undisturbed, have the protection of both 
sides, and be permitted to follow their employments 
in security ? viz. 

1. Cultivators of the earth, because they labour for 
the subsistence of mankind. 

2. Fishermen, for the same reason. 

3. Merchants and traders in unarmed ships, who ac- 
commodate different nations by communicating and ex- 
changing the necessaries and conveniences of life. 

4. Artists and mechanics, inhabiting and working in 
open towns. 

It is hardly necessary to add, that the hospitals of 
enemies should be unmolested — they ought to be as- 
sisted. It is for the interest of humanity in general, 
that the occasions of war, and the inducements to it, 
should be diminished. If rapine be abolished, one of 
the encouragements to war is taken away ; and peace 
therefore more likely to continue and be lasting. 

The practice of robbing merchants on the high seas 
—a remnant of the ancient piracy — though it may be 



ESSAYS. 215 

accidentally beneficial to particular persons, is far from 
being profitable to all engaged in it, or to the nation 
that authorises it. In the beginning of a war some 
rich ships are surprised and taken. This encourages 
the first adventurers, to fit out more armed vessels- and 
many others to do the same. But the enemy at the 
same time become more careful, arm their merchant 
ships better, and render them not so easy to be taken ; 
they go also more under the protection of convoys. — 
Thus, while the privateers to take them are multiplied, 
the vessels subject to be taken, and the chances of 
profit are diminished ; so that many cruises are made, 
wherein the expences overgo the gains ; and, as is 
the case in other lotteries, though particulars have got 
prizes, the mass of adventurers are losers, the whole 
expence of fitting out all the privateers during a war 
being much greater than the whole amount of goods 
taken. 

Then there is the national loss of all the labour of 
so many men during the time they have been employ- 
ed in robbing ; who besides spend what they get in 
riot, drunkenness, and debauchery ; lose their habits 
of industry ; are rarely fil for any sober business after 
a peace, and serve only lo increase the number of high- 
waymen and house-breakers. Even the undertakers 
-who have been fortunate, are, by sudden wealth, led 
into expensive living, the habit of which continues 
when the means of supporting it cease, and finally ruins 
them : a just punisiiment for having wantonly and un- 
feelingly ruined many honest, innocent traders and their 
families, whose substa!ice was employed in serving the 
common interest of mankind. 



216 ESSAYS. 



ON THE IMPRESS OF SEAMEN. 



Notes copied from Dr. Franklin's writing in pencil in 
the margin of Judge Foster's celebrated argument in 
favour of the Impressing of Sramen (published in 
the folio edition of his works.) 



JUDGE Foster, p. 158. «< Every Man,"— The con- 
clusion here from the ivhole to a fiart^ does not seem to 
be t^ood logic. If the alphabet should say, Let us all 
fight for the defence of the whole ; that is equal, and 
may therefore be just. But if they should say, Let A, 
B, C, and D, go out and fight for us, while we stay at 
borne and sleep in whole skins; that is not equal, and 
therefore cannot be just. 

lb. " Employ." — If you please. The word signifies 
engaging a man to work for me, by offering him such 
wages as are sufficient to induce him to prefer my ser- 
vice. This is very different from compelling him to 
work on such terms as I think proper. 

lb. « This service and employment, Sec." — ^^These 
are false facts. His employment and service are not 
the same — Under the merchant he goes in an unarmed 
vessel, not obliged to fight, but to transport merchan- 
dise. In the king's service he is obliged to fight, and 
to hazard all the dangers of battle. Sickness on board 
of king's ships is also more common and more mortal. 
The merchant's service too he can quit at the end of 



ESSAYS. 217 

the voyrge ; not the king's. Also, the merchant's wa- 
ges are much higher. 

lb. '* I am very sensible, 8<:c." — Here are two things 
put in comparison that are not comparable : viz. injury 
to seamen, and inconvenience to trade. Inconvenience 
to the v,'hole trade of a nation will not justify injustice 
to a single seaman. If the trade would suffer without 
his service, it is able and ought to be willing to offer 
him such wages as may induce him to afford his ser- 
vice voluntarily. 

Page 159. " Private mischief must be borne with 
*' paiience, for preventing a national calamity."—— 
Where is this maxim in law and good policy to be 
found? And how can that be a maxim which is not 
consistent with common sense ? If the maxim had been, 
that private mischief, which, prevent a national cala- 
mity, ought to be generously compensated by the 
n^ation, one might understand it; but that such pri- 
vate mischiefs are only to be borne with patience, is 
absurd ! 

lb. « The expedient, Sec. And, Sec," (Paragraphs 
2 and 3) — Twenty ineffectual or inconvenient schemes 
will not justify one that is unjust. 

lb. " Upon the foot of, &c " — Your reasoning, in- 
deed, like a lie, stands but upon oxi^ foot ; truth upon 
two. 

Page 160. " Full wages." — Probably the same they 
had in the merchant's service. 

Page 174. " I hardly admit, &c." (Paragraph 5) 
— When this author speaks of impressing, page 158, 
he diminishes the horror of the practice as much as 
possible, by presenting to the mind one sailor only suf- 
fering hardshifi (as he tenderly calls it) in some /?ar- 
ticular cases only : and he places against this private 
mischief the inconvenience to the trade of the king- 
dom — But if, as he supposes is often the case, the sail- 
or who is pressed, and obliged to serve for the defence 
of trade, at the rate of twenty five shillings a nionth, 
could get three pounds fifteen shillings in the mer- 
chant's service, you take from him fifty shillings a 

T 



218 ESSAYS. 

month : and if you have 100,000 in yonr service, you 
rob this honest industrious part of society, and their 
poor fanciiiies of 250,0001. per month, or three millions 
a year, and at the same time oblige them to hazard 
their lives in fighting for the defence of your trade ; 
to the defence of which all ought indeed to contri- 
bute (and sailors among the rest) in proportion to their 
profits by it ; but this three millions is more than 
their share, if they did not pay with their persons ; but 
when you force that, methinks you should excuse the 
other. 

But it may be said, to give the king's seamen mer- 
chant's wages would cost the nation too much, and 
call for more taxes. The question then will amount 
to this : whether it be just in a community, that the 
richer part should compel the poorer to fight in de- 
fence of them and their properties, for such wages as 
they think fit to allow, and punish them if they re- 
fuse ? Our author tells us that it is " legal." 1 have 
not law enough to dispute his authorities, but I can- 
not persuade myself that it is equitable. I will, how- 
ever, own for the present, that it may be lawful when 
necessary ; but then I contend that it m.ay be used so 
as to produce the same good effects — the fiublic security 
without doing so much intolerable injustice as attends 
the impressing common seamen — ^In order to be bet- 
ter understood, I v.'ouId premise two things ; First, that 
voluntary seamen may be had for the service, if they 
were sufficiently paid. The proof is, th^t to serve in 
the same ship, and incur the same dangers, you have 
no occasion to impress captains, lieutenants," second lieu- 
tenants, miidshipmen, pursers, nor many other officers. 
Why but that the profits of their places, or the emolu- 
ments expected, are sufficient inducements ? The busi- 
ness then is, to find money, by impressing, sufficient to 
make the sailors all volunteers, as well as their offi- 
cers ; and this without any fresh burthen upon trade. — - 
The second of my premises is, that twenty five shil- 
lings a month, with his share of salt beef, pork, and 
pease-pudding, being found sufficient for the subsis- 



ESSAYS. 219 

tance of a hard-working seaman, it will certainly be so 
for a sedentary scholar or a gentleman. I would then 
propose to form a treasury, out of which encourage, 
ments to seamen should be paid. To fill this treasury, 
1 would impress a number of civil officers, who at pre- 
sent have greatf salaries, oblige them to serve in their 
respective offices for twenty-five shillings a month, with 
their shares of mess provisions, and throw tiie rest of 
their salaries into the seamen's treasury. If such a 
press warrant were given me to execute, the first I 
would press should be a Recorder of Bristol, or a Mr. 
Justice Foster, because I might have need of his edify- 
ing example, to show how much impressing ought to 
be borne with ; for he would certainly find, that though 
to be reduced to twenty-five shillings a month might be 
a firivatc mischiefs yet that, agreeably to his maxim of 
law and good policy, it ought to be borne nvith patieiire^ 
for preventing a national calamity. Then I would press 
the rest of the judges ; and, opening the red book, I 
would press every civil officer of government from 501. 
a year salary, up to 50,0001. which would throw an im- 
mense sum into our treasury : and these gentlemen 
could not complain, since they would receive twenty- 
five shillings a month, and their rations; and this with- 
out being obliged to fight. Lastly, I think I would im- 
press***. 



220 ESSAYS. 



ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS, 



AND- 
t 

THE PRACTIOE OF PRiVATEERINa 



Letter to Benjamin Vaughan, Esq. 

March 14, 1785. 

MY DEAR FRIEND, 

AMONG the pamphlets yovv lately sent me, was 
one, entiticcl, Thoughts on Rxeciu'we Justice. In re- 
turn for that, I send you one on the same subject, Ob' 
servations concernant I' Execution de C Article II. ds 
la Declaration sur le Vol. 'Iliey are both addressed to 
the judges, and writen, as you will see, in a very differ- 
ent spirit. The English author is tor hanging «// thieves. 
The Frenchman is for proportioning punishments to 
offences. 

If we really believe, as we profess to believe, that 
the law of Moses was the law of God, the dictates of 
divine wisdom, infinitely superior to human ; on what 
principles do we ordain death as the punishjiient of an 
offence, which, according to that law, was only to be 
punished by a restitution of four-fold ? To put a man 
to death for an offence which docs not deserve death, 
is it not a murder? And, as the French writer says, 
Doit'On fiueir un delit contre la socieie par uri crime 
contre la nature. 

Superfluous property is the creature of society. 
Simple and mild laws were sufficient to guard the pro- 



ESSAYS. ' 221 

perty that was merely necessary. The savage's bow, 
his hatchet, and his coit of skins, were sufficiently se- 
cured, without law, by the fear of personal resentment 
and retaliation. When, by virtue of the first laws, 
part of the society accumulated wealth, and grew pow- 
erful, they enacted others more severe, and would pro- 
tect their property at the expence of humanity. This 
was abusing their power and commencing a tyranny. 
If a savage, before he entered into society, had been 
told — " Your neighbour, by this means, may become 
« owner of an hundred deer ; but if your brother, or 
" your son, or yourself, having no deer of your own, 
*' and being hungry, should kill one, an infamous death 
" must be the consequence :" — he would probably have 
preferred his liberty, and his common right of killing 
any deer, to all the advantages of society that might be 
proposed to him. 

That it is better a hundred guilty persons should es- 
cape, than that one innocent person should suffer, is a 
maxim that has been long and generally approved ; 
never, that I know of controverted. Even the san- 
guinary author of the Thoughts^ agrees to it, adding 
well, " that the very thought of injured innocence, 
*' and much more that of suffering innocence, must 
" awaken all our tenderest and most compassionate 
ii feelings, and at the same time raise our highest in- 
" dignation against the instruments of it. But, (he 
adds there is no danger of either^ from a strict ad- 
herence to the laws/' Really 1 — Is it then impossible 
to make an unjust law? and if the law itself be un- 
just, may it not be the very " insrument" which ought 
10 " raise the author's and every body's highest indig- 
nation ? I see in the last newspapers from London, 
that a woman is capitally convicted at the Old Bailey, 
for privately stealing out of a shop some gauze, value 
fourteen shillings and three-pence : Is there any pro- 
portion between the injury done by a theft, value 
fourteen shillings and three pence, and the punishment 
of a human creature, by death, on a gibbet ? Might 
not that woman, by her labour, have made the repara^ 
T 2 



222 ESSAYS. 

ration ordained by God, in paying fourfold ? Is not 
all punishment, inflicted beyond the merit of the of- 
fence, so much punishment of innocence ? In this light, 
how vast is the annual quantity, of not only injured but 
suffering innocence, in al«iost all the civilized states of 
Europe I 

But it seems to have been thought that this kind of 
innocence may be punished by way of preventing 
crimes. I have read, indeed, of a cruel Turk in Bar- 
bary, who, whenever he bought a new Christian slave, 
ordered him immediately to be hung up by the legs, 
and to receive a hundred blows of a cudgel on the soles 
of his feet, that the severe sense of the punishment, 
and fear of incurring it thereafter, might prevent the 
faults that should merit it. Our author himself would 
hardly approve entirely of this Turk's conduct in the 
government of slaves ; and yet he appears to recom- 
mend something like it for the government of English 
subjects, when he applauds the reply of Judge Burnet 
to the convict horse-stealer ; who being asked what he 
had to say why judgment of death should not pass 
against him, and answering, that it was hard to hang 
a man for only stealing a horse, was told by the judge, 
•' Man, thou art not to be hanged only for stealing a 
horse, but that horses may not be stolen." The man's 
answer, if candidly examined, will, I imagine, appear 
reasonable, as being founded on the eternal principle 
of justice and equity, that punishments should be pro- 
portioned to offences, and the judge's reply brutal and 
unreasonable, though the writer " wishes all judges to 
carry it with them whenever they go to the circuit, 
and to bear it in their minds, as containing a wise rea- 
son for all the penal statutes which they are called 
upon to put in execution. It at once illustrates, says 
he, the true grounds and reasons of ail capital punish- 
ments whatsoever, namely, that every man's property, 
as well as his life, may be held sacred and inviolate." 
Is there then no difference in value between property 
and life ; If I think it right that the crime of murder 
should be punished with death; not only as an equal 



ESSAYS. 225 

punishment of the crime, but to prevent other mur- 
ders, does it follow that I must approve of the same 
punishment for a little invasion on my property by 
theft ? If I am not myself so barbarous so bloody- 
minded, and revengeful, as to kill a fellow-creature 
for stealing from me fourteen shillings and three- 
pence, how can I approve of a law that does it ? 
Montesquieu, \vho was himself a judge, endeavours to 
impress other maxims. He must have known what 
humane judges feel on such occasions, and what the 
effects of those feelings ; and so far from thinking that 
severe and excessive punishments prevent crimes, he 
asserts, as quoted by our French writer, that 

" L'atrocite des loix en empeche l*execution. 

" Lorsque la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent oblig^ de 
** lui pref^rer I'lmpunite. 

** La cause destous.les relachemens vient de I'impunit^ des 
" crimes, et non de la moderation des peines." 

It is said by those who know Europe generally, that 
there are more thefts committed and punished annually 
in England than in all the other nations put together. 
If this be so, there must be a cause or causes for such 
depravity in our common people. May not one be the 
deficiency of justice and morality in our national gov- 
ernment, manifested in our oppressive conduct to sub- 
jects, and unjust wars on our neighbours? View the 
long-persisted in, unjust, monopolizing treatment of 
Ireland, at length acknowledged I View the plunder- 
ing government exercised by our merchants in the In- 
dies ; the confiscating war made upon the American 
colonies ; and, to say nothing of those upon France 
and Spain, view the late war upon Holland, which was 
seen by impartial Europe in no other light than that of 
a war in rapine and pillage ; the hopes of an immense 
and easy prey being its only apparent, and probably its 
true and real motive and encouragement Justice is as 
strictly due between neighbour nations as betvveen 



324 ESSAYS. 

neighbour citizens. A highwayman is as much a rob- 
ber when he plunders in a gang^ as when single ; and 
a nation that makes an unjust war is only a great 
gang. After employing your people in robbing the 
Dutch, is it strange that, being out of that employ by 
peace, they still continue robbing, and rob one ano- 
ther ? Piraterie^ as the French call it, or privateer- 
ing, is the universal bent of the English nation, at 
home and abroad, wherever settled No less than 
seven hundred privateers were, it is said, commission- 
ed in the last war I These were fitted out by mer- 
chants, to prey upon other merchants, who had never 
done them any injury. Is there probabably any oiie 
of those privateering merchants of London, who were 
so ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that 
would not as readily plunder another London mer- 
chant of the next street, if he could do it with the same 
impunity ! The avidity, the alicni a/ifietens is the same :. 
it is the fear alone of the gallows that makes the dif- 
ference. How then can a nation, which, amongst the 
honestest of its people, has so many thieves by inclina- 
tion, and whose government encouraged and commis- 
sioned no less than seven hundred gangs of robbers ; 
how can such a nation have the face to condemn the 
crime in individuals, and hang up twenty of them in a 
morning ! It naturally puts one in mind of a Newgate 
anecdote. One of the prisoners complained, that in 
the night somebody had taken the buckles out of his 
shoes. " What th^ devil !" says another, '* have we 
then thieves amongst us ? It must not be suffered, Let 
us search out the rogue, and pump him to death.'* 

There is, however, one late instance of an English 
merchant who will not profit by such ill-gotten gain. 
He was, it seems, part owner of a ship, which the 
other owners thought fit to employ as a letter of 
marque, and which took a number of French prizes. 
The booty being shared, he has now an agent here en- 
quiring, by an advertisement in the Gazette, for those 
who suffered the loss, in order to make them, as far 



ESSAYS. 223 

as in him lies, restitution. This conscientious man is 
a Quaker. The Scotch Presbyterians were formerly as 
tender ; for there is still extant an ordinance of the town- 
council of Edinburgh, made soon after the Reformation, 
*' forbidding the purchase of prize goods, under puin of 
losini^ the freedom of the burgh for ever, with other 
punishment at the will of the magistrate ; the practice 
of making prizes being contrary to good conscience, 
and the rule of treating Christian brethren as we would 
wish to be treated ; and such goods are not to be sold by 
godly men within this burgh''* — The race of these godly 
men in Scotland is probably extinct, or their principles 
abandoned, since, as far as that nation had a hand in 
promoting the war against the colonies, prizes and 
confiscations are believed to have been a considerable 
motive. 

It has been for some time a generally received opin- 
ion, that a military man is not to enquire whether a 
war be just or unjust ; he is to execute his orders.— 
All princes who are disposed to become tyrants, must 
probably approve of this opinion, and be willing to 
establish it ; but is it not a dangerous one ? since, on 
that principle, if the tyrant commands his army to at- 
tack and destroy, not only an unoffending neighbour 
nation, but even his own subjects, the army is bound 
to obey. A negro slave, in our colonies, being com- 
manded by his master to rob or murder a neighbour, or 
do any other immoral act, may refuse ; and the ma- 
gistrate will protect him in his refusal. The slavery 
then of a soldier is worse than that of a negro; A con- 
scientious officer, if not restrained by the apprehension 
of its being imputed to another cause, may indeed re- 
sign, rather than be employed in an unjust war, but 
the private men are slaves for life ; and they are per- 
haps incapable of judging for themselves. We can 
only lament their fate, and still more that of a sailor, 
who is often dragged by force from his honest occupa- 
tion, and compelled to imbrue his hands in perhaps in- 
nocent blood. But methinks it well behoves mer- 
chants (men more enlightened by their education, and 



226 ESSAYS. 

perfectly free from any such force or obligation) to con- 
sider well of the justice of a war, before they volun- 
tarily engage a gang of ruffians to attack their fellow- 
merchants of a neighbouring nation, to plunder them of 
their property, and perhaps ruin them and their fami- 
lies, if they yield it*, or to wound, maim, and murder 
them, if they attempt to defend it. Yet these things 
are done by Christian merchants, whether a war be 
just or unjust; and it can hardly be just on both sides. 
They are done by English and American merchants, 
who, nevertheless, complain of private theft, and hang 
by dozens the thieves they have taught by their own 
example. 

It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop 
were put to this enormity. The United States of 
America, though better situated than any European 
nation to make profit by privateering, (most of the 
trade of Europe with the West-Indies passing before 
their doors) are, as far as in them lies, endeavouring 
to abolish the practice, by offering, in all their treaties 
with other powers, an article, engaging solemuJy, that 
in case of future war, no privateer shall be commission- 
ed on either side ; and that unarmed merchant-ships, 
on both sides, shall pursue their voyages unmolested.* 
This will be a happy improvement of the law of nations. 
The humane and the just cannot but wish general success 
to the proposition. 

^Vith unchangeable esteem and affection, 
1 am, my dear friends, 

Ever yours. 



ireaty of amity and commerce was concluded between that monarch 
and the United States, containing the fbllowins^ humane, pbilan- 
tliropic article, in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, as one of 
the American plenipotentiaries, wiis principally concerned, viz. 

ART. XXIII. 

If war sliould arise between the two contracting parties, the 
merchants of either country, tlien residing in the other, shall be ui- 



ESSAYS. ^2t 



REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES OF 
NORTH AMERICA. 



SAVAGES we call them, because their manners dif- 
fer from ours, which we think the perfection of civility; 
they think the same of theirs. 

Perhaps, if we could examine the manners of diffe- 
rent nations with impartiality, we should find no people 
so rude as to be without any rules of politeness, nor any 
so polite as not to have some remains of rudeness. 



lowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and settle their 
aflairs, and may depart freely, carrying off their effects without 
molestation or hindrance : and all women and children, scholars of 
every faculty, cultivators of the earth, artizans, manufacturers, 
and fishermen, unarmed and inhabiting- unfortified towns, villag-es, 
or places, and in general all others whose occupations are for the 
common subsistence and benefit of mankind, shall be allowed to con- 
tinue their respective employments, and shall not be molested in 
their persons, nor shall their houses or goods be burned, or other- 
Wise destroyed, nor tlieir fields wasted, by the armed force of the 
enemy into whose power, by the events of war, they may happen to 
fall ; but if any thing is necessary to be taken from them for the use 
of such armed force, the same shall be paid for at a reasonable price. 
•— x\nd all mercliant and trading vessels employed in exchanging 
the products of different places, and thereby rendering the neces- 
saries, conveniences, and comforts of human life more easy to be 
obtained, and more general, shall be allowed to pass free and un- 
molested; and neither of the contracting powers shall grant or issue 
any commission to any private armed vessels, empowering them to 
take or destroy such trading vessels, or interrupt such commerce. 



228 ESSAYS. 

The Indian men, when yoiinj^, are hunters and war- 
riors ; when old, counsellors; for all their government 
is by the counsel or advice of sages ; there is no force, 
there are no prisons, no officers to compel obedience, 
or inflict punishment. Hence they generally study 
oratory ; the best speaker having the most influence. 
The Indian women till the ground, dress the food, 
nurse and bring up the children, and preserve and 
liand down to posterity the memory of public trans- 
actions. These employments of men and women are 
accounted natural and honourable. Having few arti- 
ficial wants, they have abundance of leisure for im- 
provement by conversation. Our laborious manner 
of life, compared with theirs, they esteem slavish and 
base ; and the learning on which we value ourselves, 
they regard as frivolous and useless. An instance of 
this occurred at the treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylva- 
nia, anno 1744, between the government of Virginia 
and the Six nations. After the principal business was 
setted, the commissioners from Virginia acquainted 
the Indians by a speech, that there was at Williams- 
burg a college, with a fund, for educating Indian youth; 
and that if the chiefs of the Six Nations would send 
down half a dozen of their sons to that college, the go- 
vernment would take care that they should be well pro- 
vided for, and instructed in all the learning of the white 
people. It is one of the Indian rules of politeness not to 
answer a public proposition the same day that it is made; 
they think it would be treating it as a light matter; 
and they shew it respect by taking time to consider it, 
as of a matter important. They therefore deferred 
their answer till the day following ; when their speak- 
er began, by expressing their deep sense of the kind- 
ness of the Virginia government, in making them that 
offer ; *' for we know (says he) that you highly esteem 
the kind of learning taught in those colleges, and that 
the maintenance of our young men, while with you, 
would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, 
therefore, that you mean to do us good by your propo- 
sal, and we thank you heartily. But you who are 



ESSAYS. 229 

wise must know, that different nations have different 
conceptions of things; and you will therefore not take 
it amiss, if our ideas of this kind of education happen 
not to be the same with yours. We have had some 
experience of it : several of our young people were 
formerly brought up at the colleges of the northern 
provinces ; they were instructed in all your sciences ; 
but when they came back to us, they were bad run- 
ners : ignorant of every means of living in the woods ; 
unable to bear either cold or hunger ; knew neither 
how to build a cabin, take a deer, or kill an enemy; 
spoke our language imperfectly ; were therefore nei" 
ther fit for hunters, warriors, or counsellers ; they were 
totally good for nothing. We are however not the 
less obliged by your kind offer, though we decline ac- 
cepting it : and to show our grateful sense of it, if the 
gentlemen of Virginia will send us a dozen of their 
sons, we will take great care of their education, in- 
struct them in all we know, and make rjieii of them.'* 

Having frequent occasion to hold public councils, 
they have acquired great order nnd decency in con- 
ducting them. The old men sit in the foremost ranks, 
the warriors in the next, and the women and children 
in the hindmost. The business of the women is to 
take exact notice of what passes, imprint it in their 
memories, for they have no writing, and communicate 
it to their children. They are the records of the 
council, and they preserve tradition of the stipulations 
in treaties a hundred years back ; which, when we 
compare with our writings, we always find exact. He 
that would speak rises. The rest observe a profound 
silence. When he has finished, and sits down, thfey 
leave him five or six minutes to recollect, that, if he 
has omitted any thing he intended to say, or has any 
thing to add, he may rise again, arid deliver it. To 
interrupt another, even in commmon conversation, is 
reckoned highly indecent. How different this is from 
the conduct of a polite British House of Commons, 
where scarce a day passes, without some confusion, 
thar^fnakes the speaker hoarse in calling to order ; and 
U 



230 ESSAYS. 

how different from the mode of conversation in many 
polite companies of Europe, where if you do not de- 
liver your sentence with great rapidity, you are cut 
off in the middle of it by the impatient loquacity of 
those you converse with, and never suffered to finish 
it! ^ 

The politeness of these savages in conversation, is 
indeed, carried to excess; since it does not permit 
them to contradict or deny the truth of what is as- 
serted in their presence. By this means they indeed 
avoid disputes ; but then it becomes difficult to know 
their minds, or what impression you make upon them. 
The missionaries who have attempted to convert them 
to Christianity, all complain of this as one of the great 
difficulties of their mission. The lndi.jns hear with 
patience the truths of the gospel explained to them, 
and give their usual tokens of i-.ssent and approbation : 
you would think they were convinced. No such mattert 
It is mere civility. 

A Swedish minister having assembled the chiefs of 
the Susquehannah Indians, made a sermon to them, 
acquainting them with the principle historical facts on 
which our religion is founded : such as the fall of our 
first parents by eatint^ an apple ; the coming of Christ 
to repair the mischief; his miracles and sufferings, Sec. 
— When he had finished, an iiidian orator stood up to 
thank him. *' W hat you have told us,'* says he, " is all 
very good. It is indeed bad to eat apples. It is bet- 
ter to make them all into cyder. We are much obliged 
by your kindness in coming so far to tell us those things 
which you have heard ftom your mothers. In return 
I will tell you some of those we have heard from 
ours. 

'' In the beginning, our fathers had only the flesh 
of animals to subsist on ; and if their hunting was un- 
successful, they were starving. Two of our young 
hunters having killed a deer, made a fire in the woods 
to broil some parts of it. When they were about to 
satisfy their hunger, they beheld a beautiful young 
woman descend from the clouds, and seat hersel*^'^ on 



ESSAYS. 251 

th:^t hill which you see yonder amon^ the Blue Moun- 
tains. They said to each other, it is a spirit that per- 
haps has smelt our broiling venison, and wishes to eat 
of it : let us offer some to her. They presented her 
with the tongue : she was pleased with the taste of it, 
and said, your kindness shall be rewarded. Come to 
this place after thirteen moons, and you shall find 
something that will he of great benefit in nourishing 
you and your children to the latest generations. They 
did so, and to their surprise found plants they had ne- 
ver seen before ; but which from that ancient time, 
haye been constantly cultivated among us, to our great 
advantage. Where her right hand had touched the 
ground, they found maize ; where her left hand had 
touched it, they found kidney-beans; and where her 
backside had sat on it, they found tobacco." The 
good missionary, disgusted with this idle tale, said. 
What I delivered to you, were sacred truths ; but 
what you tell me, is mere fable, fiction and falsehood." 
The Indian, offended, replied, <* My brother, it seems 
your friends have not done you justice in your educa- 
tion : they have not well instructed you in the rules of 
common civility. You saw that we, who understand 
and practice those rules, believed all your stories, why 
do you refuse to believe ours ?" 

When any of them come into our towns, our people 
are apt to croud round them, gaze upon them, and 
incommode them where they desire to be private ; this 
they esteem great rudeness, and the effect of the want 
of instruction in tlie rules of civility and good man- 
ners. *» We have," say they, " as much curiosity as 
" you, and when you come into our towns, we wish 
" for opportunities of looking at you ; but for this 
" purpose we hide ourselves behind bushes where you 
^* are to pass, and never intrude ourselves into your 
" company." 

Their manner of entering one another's villages has 
likewise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling 
gtrangers to enter a village abruptly, without giving 
i^otice of their approach, Therefore, as soon as they 



232 ESSAYS. 

arrive within hearing, they stop and hollow, remaining 
there till invited to enter. Two old men usually conne 
out to them, and lead them in. There is in every vil- 
lage a vacant dwelling, called the strangers' house. 
Here they are placed, while the old men go round from 
hut to hut, acquainting the inhabitants that strangers 
are arrived, v/ho are probably hungry and weary ; and 
every one sends them wluit he can spare of victuals, 
and skins to repose on. When the strangers are re- 
freshed, pipes and tobacco are brought ; and then, but 
not before, conversation begins, with enquiries who 
they are, whither bound, what news. Sec. and- it usu- 
ally ends with offers of service ; if the strangers have 
occasion of guides, or any necessaries for continuing 
their journey ; and nothing is exacted for the enter- 
tainment. 

The same hospitality, esteemed among them as a 
principal virtue, is practised by private persons; bf 
"which Conrad IVeiser^ our interpreter, gave me the 
following instance. He had been naturalized among 
the Six Nations, and spoke well the Mohawk language. 
In going through the Indian country, to carry a mes- 
sage from our governor to the council at Onondago^ he 
called at the habitation of Canassetego, an old acquain- 
tance, who embraced him, spread furs for him to sit 
on, placed before him some boiled beans and venison, 
and mixed some rum and water for his drink. When 
he was well refreshed, and had lit his pipe, Canassete- 
go began to converse with him : asked how he had 
fared the many years since they had seen each other, 
whence he then came, what occasioned the journey, 
&c. Conrad answered all his questions ; and when the 
discourse began to flag, the Indian, to continue it, said, 
*• Conrad, you have lived long among the white people, 
and know something of their customs : I have been 
sometimes at Albany, and have observed, that once 
in seven days they shut up their shops, and assemble 
all in the great house ; tell me what that is for ! What 
do they do there ?" " They meet there," says Conrad, 
*' to hear and learn good things.** " I do not doubt says 



ESSAYS.. ^oo 

th« Indian, " that they tell you so ; they have tol^l me 
the same ; but I doubt the truth of what they say, and 
I will tell you my reasons. I went lately to Albany, to 
sell my skins, and buy blankets, knives, powder, rum, 
&c. You know I used generally to deal with Hans 
Hanson ; but I was a Utile inclined this time to try 
some other merchants. However, I called first upon 
Hans, and asked him what he would give for beaver. 
He said that he could not give more than four shillings 
a poHud ; but, says he, I cannot talk on business now, 
this is the day when we meet together to learn good 
thingsy and I am going to the meeting. So I thought 
to myself, since I cannot do any business to-day, I may 
as well go to the meeting too, and I went with him. 
There stood up a man in black, and began to talk to 
the people very angrily, I did not understand what he 
said, but perceiving that he looked much at me and at 
Hanson, 1 imagined he was angry at seeing me there ; 
so I ^fent out, sat down near the house, struck fire, 
and lit my pipe, waiting till the meeting should break 
up. I thought too that the man had mentioned some- 
thing of beaver, and I suspected it might be the sub- 
ject of their meeting. So when they came out I accost- 
ed my merchant. *' Well, Hans,** says I, " I hope you 
«' have agreed to give more than four shillings a pound," 
" No,'* says he, " I cannot give so much, I cannot 
" give more than three shillings and six-pence.'* I 
then spoke to several other dealers, but they all sung 
the same song, three and six-pence, three and six- 
pence. This made it clear to me that my suspicion was 
right ; and that whatever they pretended of meeting 
to learn good things^ the purpose was to consult how to 
cheat Indians m the price of beaver. Consider but a 
little Conrad, and you must be of my opinion. If they 
met so often to learn good t/iings, they would certainly 
have learned some before this time. But they are still 
ignorant. You know our practice. ,If a white man, in 
^travelling through our country, enters one of our cabins 



U 2 



234 ESSAYS. 

we all treat him as I do you ; we dry him if he is wet ; 
we warm him if he is cold, and give him meat and 
drink, that he may allay his thirst and hunger ; and we 
spread soft furs for him to rest and sleep on : we de- 
mand nothing in return.* But if I go into a white man's 
house at Albany, and ask for victuals and drink, they 
say, get out, you Indian dog. You see they have not 
yet learned those little ^ood things that we need no 
meetings to be instructed in, because our mothers 
taught them to us when we were children : and there- 
fore it is impossible their meetings should be, as they 
say, for any such purpose, or have any such effect ; they 
are only to contrive the cheating of Indians in the price 
of beaver,** 

* It is remarkable, that in all ages and countries, hospital^ 
ity has been allowed as the virtue of those, whom the civil- 
ized were pleased to call Barbarians ; the Greeks celebrated 
the Scythians for it. The Saraoens possessed it eminently, 
and it is to this day the reigning virtue of the wild Arabs. 
St. Paul too, in the relation of his voyage and shipwreck on 
the island of Melita, say, '• The barbarous people shewed us 
" no little kindness ; for they kindled a fire, and received us 
*• every one, because of the present rain, and because of the 
" cold." T'his note is taken from a small collection of Frank- 
lin's papers, printed for Dilly, 



ESSAYS. 235 



TO M. DUBOURG, 

CONCERNING THE DISSENTIONS BETWEEN 
ENGLAND AND AMERICA. 



London, October, 2, 1770. 

I SEE with pleasure that we think pretty much 
alike upon the subject of English America. We of the 
colonies have never insisted that we ought to be ex- 
empt from contributing to the common expences ne- 
cessary to support the prosperity of the empire. We 
only assert, that having parliaments of our own, and 
not having representatives in that of Great Britain, 
our parliaments are the only judges of what we can 
and what we ought to contribute in this case : and 
that the English parliament has no right to take our 
money without our consent. In fact, the British em- 
pire is not a single state ; it comprehends many; and 
though the parliament of Great Britain has arrogated 
to itself the power of taxing the colonies, it has no 
more right to do so, than it has to tax Hanover, We 
have the same king, but not the same legislatures. 

The dispute between the two countries has already 
cost England many millions sterling, which it has lost 
in its commerce, and America has in this respect been 
a proportionable gainer. This commerce consisted 
principally of superfluities ; objects of Luxury and fash- 
ion, which we can well do without ; and the resolution 
we have formed of importing no more till our grievan- 
ces are redressed, has enabled many of our infant man- 
ufactures to take root ; and it will not be easy to make 



235 ESSAYS. 

our people abandon them in future, even should a con 
nection more cordial than ever succeed the preseD' 
troubles. — I have, indeed, no doubt that the parliamen; 
of England will finally abandon its present pretensions, 
and leave to us the peaceable enjoyment of our rights 
and privileges. 

B. FRANKLIN. 



A COMPARISON. 



OF THE CONDUCT OF THE ANCIENT JEWp, 

AND OF THE ANTIFEDERALISTS IN THE 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

A ZEALOUS advocate for the proposed Federal 
Constitution, in a certain public assembly, said, that 
" the repugnance of a great part of mankind to good 
" government was such, that he believed that if an 
« angel from heaven was to bring down a consdtu- 
" tion formed there for our use, it would nevertheless 
" meet with violent opposition.'* — He was reproved 
for the supposed extravagance of the sentiment ; and 
he did not justify it. — Piobably it might not have im- 
mediately occurred to him that the experiment had been 
tried, and that the event was recorded in the most faith- 
ful of all histories, the Holy Bible ; otherwise he might, 
as it seems to me, have supported his opinion by that 
unexceptionable authority. 

The Supreme Being had been pleased to nourish up 
a single family, by continueil acts of his attentive Pro- 
vidence, 'till it became a great people : and having 
rescued them from bondage by many miracles perform-- 



ESSAYS- 2S7 

ed by his servant Moses, he personally delivered to that 
chosen servant, in presence of the whole nation, a con- 
stitution and code of laws for their observance ; accom- 
panied and sanctioned with promises of great rewards, 
and threats of severe punishments, as the consequence 
of their obedience, or disobedience. 

This constitution, though the Deity himself was to be 
at its head, (and it is therefore called by political writers 
a Theocracy) could not be carried into execution but by 
means of his ministers ; Aaron and his sons were there- 
fore commissioned to be, with Moses, the first establish- 
ed ministry of the new government. 

One would have thought, that the appointment of 
men who had distinguished themselves in procuring the 
liberty of the nation, and had hazarded their lives in 
openly opposing the will of a powerful monarch who 
would have retained that nation in slavery, might have 
been an appointment acceptable to a grateful people ; 
and that a constitution, framed for them by the Deity 
himself, might on that account have been secure of an 
universal welcome reception. Yet there were, in 
every one of the thirteen tribes, some discontented rest- 
less spirits, who were continually exciting them to re- 
ject the proposed new government, and this from vari- 
ous motives. 

Many still retained an affection for Egypt, the land 
of their nativity, and these, whenever they felt any in- 
convenience or hardship, through the natural and un- 
avoidable effect of their change of situation, exclaimed 
against their leaders as the authors of their trouble ; 
and were not only for returning into Egypt, but for 
stoning their deliverers.* Those inclined to idolatry 
were displeased that their golden calf was destroyed. 
Many of the chiefs thought the new constitution might 
be injurious to their particular interests, that the pro* 
fitable places would be engrossed by the families and 

Numbers chap. xvi. 



238 ESSAYS. 

friends of Moses and Aaron^ and othets equally well- 
born excluded.* — In Josephus, and the Talmud, we 
learn some particulars, not so fully narrated in the 
scripture, We are there told, " that Korah was am- 
bitious of the priesthood ; and offended that it was 
conferred on Aaron : and this, as he said, by the au- 
thority of Moses only, nvithout the consent of the fieo- 
file. He accused Moses of having, by various artifices, 
fraudently obtained the government, and deprived the 
people of their liberties ; and of conspiring with Aaron 
to perpetuate the tyranny in their family. Thus, 
though Korah's real motive was the supplanting of 
Aaron, he persuaded the people that he meant only 
the public good : and they, moved by his insinuations, 
began to cry out — "Let us maintain the common li- 
berty of our respective tribes ; we have freed ourselves 
from the- slavery imposed upon us by the Egyptians, 
and shall we suffer ourselves to be made slaves by 
Moses ? If we must have a master, it were better to 
return to Pharoah, who at least fed us with bread and 
onions, than to serve this new tyrant, who by his ope- 
rations has brought us into danger of famine." Then 
they called in question the reality of his conference 
with God; and objected to the privacy of the meet- 
ings, and the preventing any of the people from being 
present at the colloquies, or even approaching the 
place, as grounds of great suspicion. They accused 
Moses also of peculation ; as embezzling part of the 
golden spoons and the silver chargers, that the princes 
had offered at the dedication of the altar,t and the of- 
ferings of the gold of the common people,^ as well as 



* Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 3. " And they gathered them- 
selves together against Moses and Aaron, and said unto them. 
Ye take too much upon you, seeing all the congregations are 
holy, every one of them — wherefore then lift ye up yourselves 
above the congregation ?'* 

t Numbers, ch. vii. % Exodus, ch. xxxv. ver. 22. 



ESSAYS. 23^ 

tnost of the poll-tax ;* and Aaron they accused of 
pocketing much of the gold of which he pretended to 
have made a molten calf. Besides peculation, they 
charged Moses with ambition ; to gratify which pas- 
sion, he had, they said, deceived the people, by promis- 
ing to bring them to a land flowing with milk and ho- 
ney ; instead of doing which, he had brought them 
from such a land ; and that he thought light of this 
mischief, provided he could make himself an absolute 
Jirince.-f That, to support the new dignity with splen- 
dour in his family, the partial poll-tax already levied 
and given to Aaron^ was to be followed by a general 
onell, which would probably be augmented from time 
to time, if he were suffered to go on promulgating new 
laws on pretence of new occasional revelations of the 
divine will, till their whole fortunes were devoured by 
that aristocracy/* 

IVloses denied the charge of peculation ; and his ac- 
cusers were destitute of proofs to support it ; though 
facts, if real, are in their nature capable of proof. " I 
have not," said he, (with holy confidence in the pre- 
sence of God) *' I have not taken from this people the 
value of an ass, nor done them any other injury." — . 
But his enemies had made the charge, and with some 
success among the populace ; for no kind of accusation 
is so readily made, or easily believed, by knaves, as the 
accusation of knavery. 

in fine, no less than two hundred and fifty of the 
principal men, *' famous in the congregation, men of 



♦ Numbers, ch. iii. and Exodus, ch. xxx^ 

f Numbers, ch. xvi. ver. 13. " Is it a small thing that 
thou hast brought us up out of a land flowing with milk and 
honey, to kill us in the wilderness, except thou make thyself 
altogether a prince over us ?'* 

X Numbers, ch. iii. i Fxodus, ch. xxx. 



240 ESSAYS. 

renown,"* heading and exciting the mob working 
them up to such a pitch of phrensy, that they called 
out, stone 'em, stone 'em, and thereby secure our liber- 
ties : and let us choose other captains that may lead us 
back into Egypt, in case we do not succeed in reducing 
the Canaanites. 

On the whole, it appears that the Israelites were a 
people jealous of their newly acquired liberty, which 
jealousy was in itself no fault ; but that when they suf- 
fered it to be worked upon by artful men, pretending 
public good, with nothing really in view but private 
interest, they were led to oppose the establishment of 
the new constitution, whereby they brought upon them- 
selves much inconvenience and misfortune. It farther 
appears from the same inestimable history, that when, 
after many ages, the constitution had become old and 
much abused, that an amendment of it was proposed, 
the populace, as they had accused Moses of the ambi- 
tion of making himseJf a prince, and cried out, stone 
him, stone him ; so, excited by their high-priests and 
scribes, they exclaimed against the Messiah, that he 
aimed at becoming king of the Jews, and cried, crucify 
him, crucify him. From all which we may gather, that 
popular opposition to a public measure, is no proof of 
its impropriety, even though the opposition be excited 
and headed by men of distinction. 

To conclude, I beg I may not be understood to in- 
fer, that our general convention was divinely iospired 
when it formed the new federal constitution, merely 
because that constitution has been unreasonably and 
vehemently opposed : yet, I must own, I have so much 
faith in the general government of the world by Pro- 
vidence, that I can hardly conceive a transaction of 
such momentous importance to the welfare of millions 
now existing, and to exist in the posterity of a great 
nation, should be suffered to pass without being in some 
degree influenced, guided, and governed by that omni- 

♦ Numbers, ch. xvi. 



ESSAYS. 241 

potent, omnipresent and benificent Ruler, in whom 
all inferior spirits live, and move, and have their be- 
ing. 



THE INTERNAL STATE OF AMERICA. 



Being a true Descrifition of the Interests and Policy 
of that vast Continent. 



TFIERE is a tradition, that, in the planting of 
New EiiiJland, the first settlers met with many diffi- 
culties and hardships ; as is generally the case when a 
civilized people attempt establishing themselves in a 
wilderness country. Being piously disposed, they sought 
relief from Heaven, by laying their wants and distres- 
ses before the Lord, in frequent- set days of fasting and 
prayer. Constant meditation and discourse on these 
subjects kept their minds gloomy and discontented ; 
and: like the children of Israel, there were many dispo- 
sed to return to that Egypt which persecution had in- 
duced them to abandon. At length, when it was pro- 
posed in the assembly to proclaim another fast, a far- 
mer of plain sense rose, and remarked, that the incon- 
veniences they suffered, and concerning which they had 
so often wearied Heaven with their complaints, were 
not so great as they might have expected, and were 
diminishing every day, as the colony strengthened ; 
that the earth began to reward their labour, and to 
furnish liberally for their subsistence ; that the seas and 
rivers were found full of fish , the air sweet, and the* 
climate healthy ; and above all, that they were there 
in the full enj(;yment of liberty, civ'l and religious : 
he therefore thou^;ht, that reflecting and coiivefbing 

X, 



242 ESSAYS. 

on these subjects would be more confortable, as tend- 
ing more to make them contented with their situation ; 
and that it would be more becoming the gratitude 
they owed to the Divine Being, if, instead of a fast, 
they should proclaim a thanksgiving. His advice was 
taken, and from that day to this they have, in every 
year, observed circumstances of public felicity suffi- 
cient to furnish employment for a thanksgiving day, 
%vhich is therefore constantly ordered and religiously 
observed. 

I see in the public newspapers of different states 
frequent complaints of hard times^ deadness of trade, 
scarcity of money ^ Sec. &c. It is not my intention to 
assert or maintain that these complaints are entirely 
without foundation. There can be no country or na- 
tion existing, in which there will not be some peoole 
so circumstanced as to find it hard to gain a livelihood ; 
people who are not in the way of any profitable trade, 
and with whom money is scarce, because they have 
nothing to give in exchange for it ; and it is always 
in the power of a small number to make a great cla- 
mour. But let us take a cool view of the general state 
of our affairs, and perhaps the prospect will appear 
less gloomy than has been imagined. 

The great business of the continent is agriculture. 
For one artisan, or merchant, I suppose we have at 
least one hundred farmers, and by far the greatest part 
cultivators of their own fertile lands, from whence 
many of them draw not only food necessary for their 
subsistence, but the materials of their clothing, so as 
to need very few foreign supplies : while they have 
a surplus of productions to dispose of, whereby wealth 
is gradually accumulated. Such has been the goodness 
of Divine Providence to these regions, and so favour- 
able the climate, that, since the three or four years of 
hardship in the first settlement of our fathers here, a 
famine or scarcity has never been heard of amongst 
us; on the contrary, though some years may have 
been more, and others less plentiful, there has always 
been provision enough for ourselves, and a quantity to 



ESSAYS, 243 

spare for exportation. And although the crops of last 
year were generally good, never was the iarnier bet- 
ter paid for the part he can spare commerce, as the 
published price currents abundantly testify. The lands 
he possesses are continually rising in value with the 
increase of population ; and, on the whole, he is 
enabled to give such good wages to those who work for 
him, that ail who are acquainted with the old world 
must agree, that in no part of it are the labouring poor 
so generally well fed, well clothed, well lodged, and 
well paid, as in the United States of America. 

If we enterthe cities, we find that, since the revo- 
lution, the owners of houses and lots of ground have 
had their interest vastly augmented in value; rents 
have risen to an astonishing height, and thence encou- 
ragement to increase building, which gives employ- 
ment to an abundance of workmen, as does also the in- 
creased luxury and splendour of living of the inhabi- 
tants thus made richer. These workmen all demand 
and obtain much higher wages than any other part of 
the world could afford them, and are paid in ready 
money. This rank of people therefore do not, or ought 
not, to complain of hard times ; and they make a very 
considerable part of the city inhabitants. 

At the distance I live from our American fisheries, 
I cannot speak of them with any degree of certainty ; 
but I have not heard that the labour of the valuable 
race of men employed in them is worse paid, or that 
they meet with less success, than before the revolution. 
The whale-men, indeed have been deprived of one 
market for their oil ; but another, I hear, is opening 
for them, which it is hoped may be equally advantage- 
ous ; and the demand is constantly increasing for their 
spermaceti candles, which there bear a much higher 
price than formerly. 

There remain the merchants and shop-keepers. Of 
these, though they make but a small part of the whole 
nation, the number is considerable, too great indeed for 
the business ihey are employed in ; for the consump- 
tion of goods in every country has its limits ; the ta- 



244i ESSAYS 

culties of the people, that is, their ability to buy and 
pay, is equal only to a certain quantity of merchan- 
dise. If merchants calculate amiss on their propor- 
tion and import too much, they will of course find the 
sale dull for the overplus, and some of them will say 
that trade languishes. They should, and doubtless- 
will grow wiser by experience, and import less. If 
too many artificers in town, and farmers from the coun- 
try, flattering themselves with the idea of leading 
easier lives, turn shop-keepers, the whole natural 
quantity of that business divided among them all may 
afford too small a share for each, and occasion com- 
plaints that trading is dead ; these may also suppose 
that it is owing to scarcity of money, while in fact, it 
is not so much from the fewness of buyers, as from 
the excessive number of sellers, that the mischief ari- 
sen; and, if every ahop-keeping farmer and mechanic 
would return to the use of his plough and working 
tools, there would remain of widows, and other women, 
shop-keepers sufficient for the business, which might 
then aftbrd them a comfortable maintenance. 

Whoever has travelled through the various parts of 
Europe, and observed how small is the proportion of 
people in affluence or easy circumstances there, com- 
pared with those in poverty and misery ; the few rich 
and haughty landlords, the multitude of poor, abject, 
rack-rented, tythe-paying tenants, and half-paid and 
half-starved ragged labourers ; and views here the hap- 
py mediocrity that so generally prevails throughout 
these states, where the cultivator works for himself, 
and supports his family in decent plenty ; will, me- 
thinks, see abundant reason to bless Divine Providence 
for the evident and great difference in our favour, anxl 
be convinced that no nation known to us enjoys a 
greater share of human felicity. 

It is true, that in some of the states there are parties 
and discords ; but let us look back, and ask if we were 
ever without them ? Such will exist wherever there is. 
liberty ; and perhaps they help to preserve it. By the 
collision of different sentiments, sparks of trath are 



ESSAYS. 245 

struck out, and political light is obtained. The dif- 
ferent factions, which at present divide us, aim ail at 
the public g;ood ; the differerices are only about the 
various modes of promoting it. Things, actions, 
measures, and objects of all kinds, present themselves 
to the minds of men in such a variety of lights, that 
it is not possible we should all think alike at the same 
time on every subject, when hardly the same man re- 
tains at all times the same ideas of it. Parties are 
therefore the common lot of humanity ; and ours are 
by no means more mischievous or less beneficial than 
those of other countries, nations, and ages, enjoying 
in the same degree the great blessing of political li- 
berty. 

Some indeed among us are not so mucb grieved for 
the present state of our affairs, as apprehensive for the 
future. The growtn of luxury alarms them, and they 
think we are from that alone in the high road to ruin. 
Tiiey observe, that no revenue is sufficient without 
ceconomy, and that the most plentiful income of a 
whole people from the natural productions of their 
country may be dissipated in vain and needless expences 

and poverty be introduced in the place of affiuence. 

This may be possible. It however rarely happens ; for 
there seems to be in every nation a greater proportion 
of industry and frugality, which tend to enrich, than 
of idleness and prodigality, which occasion poverty ; 
so that upon the whole there is a continual accumula- 
tion. R'jflect what Spain, Gaul, Germany, and Bri- 
tain were in the time of the Romans, inhabited by 
people little richer than our savages, and consider the 
wealth they at present possess, in numerous well built 
cities, improved farms, rich moveables,- magazines 
stocked with valuable manufactures, to say nothing of 
pla'e jewels, and coined money ; and all this, not- 
withstanding their bad, wasteful, plundering govern- 
ments, and their mad destructive wars ; and yet lux- 
ury and extravagant living has never suffered much re- 
straint in those countries. Then consider the great 
proportion of industrious frugal farmers inhabiting the 
X2 



246 ESSAtS*.-' 

interior parts of these American states, and of whon* 
the body of our nation consists, and judge whether it is 
possible that the luxury of our sea-ports can be suffi- 
cient to ruin such a country — If the importation of for- 
eign luxuries could ruin a people, we should proba- 
bly have been ruined long ago ; for the British nation 
claimed a right, and practised it, of importing among 
us not only the superfluities of their own production, 
but those of every nation under heaven ; we bought 
and consumed them, and yet we flourished and grew 
rich. At present our independent governments may 
do what we could not then do, discourage by heavy 
duties, or prevent by heavy prohibitions, such impor- 
tations, and thereby grow richer ; — If, indeed, which 
may admit of dispute, the desire of adorring ourselves 
with fine clothes, possessing fine furniture, with elegant 
houses, &c. is not, by strongly inciting to labour and in- 
dustry, the occasion of producing a greater value than 
is consumed in the gratification of that desire. 

The agriculture and fisheries of the United States 
are the great sources of our increasing wealth. He 
that puts a seed into the earth is recompensed, perhaps 
by receiving forty out of it ; and he who draws a fish 
out of our water, draws up a piece of silver. 

Let us (and there is no doubt but we shall) be at- 
tentive to these, and then the power of rivals, with all 
their restraining and prohibiting acts, cannot much hurt 
us. We are sons of the earth and seas, and like An- 
tseus in the fable, if in wrestling with a Hercules we 
now and then receive a fall, the touch of our parents 
will communicate to us fresh strength and vigour to 
renew the contest. 



ESSAYS. 247 

INFORMATION. 

TO THOSE 

WHO WOULD REMOVE TO AMERICA. 



MANY persons in Europe having, directly or by 
letters, expressed to the writer of this, who is well ac- 
quainted with North America, their desire of transport- 
ing and establishing themselves in that country ; but 
who appear to him to have formed, through ignorance, 
mistaken ideas and expectations of what is to be ob- 
tained there ; he thinks it may be useful, and prevent 
inconvenient, expensive, and fruitless removals and 
voyages of improper persons, if he gives some clearer 
and truer notions of that part of the world, than have 
hitherto prevailed. 

He finds it imagined by numbers, that the inhabi- 
tants of North America are rich, capable of reward- 
ing, and disposed to reward, all sorts of ingenuity ; 
that they are at the same time ignorant of all the sci- 
ences, and consequently that strangers possessing ta- 
lents in the belles-lettres, fine arts, Sec. must be highly 
esteemed,and so well paid as to become easily rich them- 
selves ; that there are also abundance of profitable of- 
fices to be disposed of, which the natives are not qua- 
lified to fill ; and that having few persons of family 
among them, strangers of birth must be greatly re- 
spected, and of course easily obtain the best of those 
offices, which will make all their fortunes ; that the 
governments; to encourage emigration from Europe, 
not only pay the expence of their personal transporta- 
tion, but give lands gratis to strangers, with negroes 



248 ESSAYS. 

to work for them, utensils of husbandry, and stocks of 
cattle. These are all wild imaginations ; and those 
who go to America with expectations founded upon 
them, will surely find themselves disappointed. 

The truth is, that though there are in that country 
few people so miserable as the poor of Europe, there 
are also few that in Europe would be called rich : it is 
rather a general happy mediocrity that prevails. There 
are few great proprietors of the soil, and few tenants ; 
most people cultivate their own lands, or follow some 
handicrafts or merchandize ; very few rich enough to 
live idly upon their rents or incomes, or to pay the 
high prices given in Europe, for painting, statues, 
architecture and the other works of art that are more 
curious, than useful. Hence the natural geniuses that 
have arisen in America, with such talents, have uni- 
formly quitted that country for Europe, where they 
can be more suitably rewa-rded. It is true that letters 
and mathematical knowledge are in esteem there, but 
they are at the same time more common than is appre- 
hended ; there being already existing nine colleges, or 
universities, viz. four in New-England, and one in 
each of the provinces of New-York, New-Jersey, 
Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, all furnished 
with learned professors ; besides a number of smaller 
academies : these educate many of their youth in the 
languages, and those sciences that qualify men for the 
professions of divinity, law, or physic. Strangers in- 
deed are by no means excluded from exercising those 
professions ; and the quick increase of inhabitants 
every where gives them a chance of enjploy, which they 
have in common with the natives. Of civil offices, or 
employments, there are few ; no superfluous ones as in 
Europe ; and it is a rule established in some of. the 
states, that no office should be so profitable as to make 
it desirable. The 36th article of the constitution of 
Pennsylvania runs expressly in these words: " As every 
freeman, to preserve his independence, (if he has not 
a sufficient estate) ought to have some profession, 
calling, trade, or farm, whereby he may honestly sub- 



ESSAYS* 249 

sist, there can be no necessity for, nor use in, establish- 
ing offices of profit ; the Hsual defects of which are 
dependence and servility, unbecoming freemen, in the 
possessors and expectants ; faction, contention, cor- 
ruption, and disorder among the people. Wherefore, 
whenever an office, through increase of fees or other- 
wise, becomes so profitable as to occasion many to ap- 
ply for it, the profits ought to be lessened by the legis* 
lature " 

These ideas prevailing more or less in all the United 
States, it cannot be worth any man*s while, who has a 
means of living at home, to expatriate himself in hopes 
of obtaining a profitable civil office in America ; and 
as to military offices, they are at an end with the war, 
the armies being disbanded. Much less is it advis- 
able for a person to go thither, who has no other quali- 
ty to recommend him but his birth. In Europe, it 
has indeed its value ; but it is a commodity that can- 
not be carried to a worse market than to that of 
America, where people do not enquire concerning a 
stranger. What is he ? but What can he do? If he 
has any useful art, he is welcome ; and if he exercises 
it, and behaves well, he will be respected by all that 
know him ; but a mere man of quality, who on that 
account wants to live upon the public by some office 
or salary, will be despised and disregarded. The hus- 
bandman is in honour there, and even the mechanic, 
because their employments are useful. The people 
have a saying, that God Almighty is himself a mecha- 
nic, the greatest in the universe ; and he is respected 
and admired more, for the variety, ingenuity, and util- 
ity of his handyworks, than for the antiquity of his 
family. They are pleased with the observation of a 
negro, and frequently mention it, that Boccarorra 
(meaning the white man) make de black man workee, 
make de horse workee, make de ox workee, make 
ebery ting workee ; only de hog. He de hog, no 
workee ; he eat, he drink, he walk about, he go to 
sleep when he please, he lib like a gentleman. Ac- 
cording to these opinions of the Americans, one of 



250 ESSAYS. 

them would think himself more obliged to a genealo- 
gist, who could prove for him that his ancestors and re- 
lations for ten generations had been ploughmen, smiths, 
carpenters, turners, weavers, tanners, or even shoe- 
makers, and consequently that ihey were useful mem- 
bers of society ; than if he could only prove that they 
were gentlemen, doing nothing of value, but living 
idly on the labour of others, mere fcuges consumere 
natij* and otherwise good for nothings till by their death 
their estates, like the carcass of the negro*s gentleman 
hog, come to be cut ufi. 

With regard to encouragements for strangers from 
government, they are really only what are derived 
from good laws and liberty. Strangers are welcome 
because there is room enough for them all, and there- 
fore the old inhabitants are not jealous of them ; the 
laws protect them sufficiently, so that they have no 
need of the patronage of great men ; and every one 
will enjoy securely the profits of his industry. But if 
he does not bring a fortune with him, he n\ust work 
and be industrious to live. One or two years residence 
give him all the rights of a citizen ; but the govern- 
ment does not at present, whatever it may have done 
in former times, hire people to become settlers, by 
paying their passages, giving land, negroes, utensils, 
stock, or any other kind of emolument whatsoever.— 
In short, America is the land of labour, and by no 
means what the English call Lubberland, and the French 
Pays de Cocagncy where the streets are said to be pa- 
ved with half-peck loaves, the houses tiled with pan- 
cakes, and where the fowls fly about ready roasted, cry- 
ing, co7ne eat me I 

Who then are the kind of persons to whom an emi- 
gration to America would be advantageous ? And what 
are the advantages they may reasonably expect \ 



-born 



Merely to eat up the corn. Watts, 



ESSAYS. ' 251 

Land being cheap in that country from the vast for- 
ests still void of inhabitants, and not likely to be occu- 
pied in an age to come, insomuch that the property of 
an hundred acres of fertile soil full of wood may be 
obtained near the frontiers in many places, for eight 
or ten guineas, hearty young labouring men) who un- 
derstand the husbandry of corn and cattle, which is 
nearly the same in that country as in Europe, may ea- 
sily establish themselves there. A little money saved 
of the good wages they receive there while they work 
for others, enables them to buy the land and begin their 
plantation, in which they are assisted by the good will 
of their neighbours, and some credit. Multitudes of 
poor people from England, Ireland, Scotland, Ger- 
many, have by this means in a few years become wealthy 
farmers, who in their own countries, where all the 
lands are fully occupied and the wages of labour low, 
could never have emerged from the mean condition 
wherein they were born. 

From the salubrity of the air, the healthiness of the 
climate, the plenty of good provisions, and the encou- 
ragement to early marriages, by the certainty of sub- 
sistence in cultivating the earth, the increase of inha- 
bitants by natural generation is very rapid in America, 
and becomes still more so by the accession of strangers ; 
hence there is a continual demand for more artisans of 
all the necessary and useful kinds, to supply those <iul- 
tivators of the earth with houses, and with furniture 
and utensils of the grosser sorts, which cannot so well 
be brought from Europe. Tolerable good workmen in 
any of these mechanic arts, are sure to find employ, and 
to be well paid fqr their work, there being no restraints 
preventing strangers from exercising any art they un- 
derstand, or any permission necessary. If they are 
poor, they begin first as servants or journeymen ; and 
if they are sober, industrious, and frugal, they soon 
become masters, establish themselves in business, mar- 
ry, raise families, and become respectable citizens. 



252 ESSAYS. 

Also, persons of moderate fortunes and capitals, who 
having a number of children to provide for, are desi- 
rous of bringing them up to industry, and to secure 
estates for their posterity, have opportunities of do- 
ing it in America, which Europe does not afford. 
There they may be taught and practice profiiable me- 
chanic arts without incurring disgrace on that account ; 
but on the contrary acquiring respect by such abilities. 
There small capitals laid out in lands, which djjily be- 
come more valuable by the increase of people- afford a 
solid prospect of ample fortunes thereafter for those 
children. The writer of this has known several in- 
stances of largf tracts of land, bought on what was 
then the froiitiei of Pennsylvania, for ten pounds per 
hundred acres, which, after twenty years, when ihe set- 
tlements had been extended far beyond them, sold 
readily, without any improvement made upon them, 
for three pounds per acre, ihe acre in America is 
the same with the English acre, or the acre of Nor- 
mandy. 

Those who desire to understand the state of govern- 
ment in America, would do well to read the constitu- 
tions of the several states, and the articles of confede- 
ration that bind the whole together for general pur- 
poses, under the direction of one assembly, called the 
Congress. These constitutions have been printed, by 
order of Congress, in America ; two editions of them 
have also been printed in London ; and a good transla- 
tion of them into French, has lately been published at 
Paris. 

Several of the princes of Europe having of late 
from an opinion of advantage to arise by producing 
all commodities and manufactures within their own 
dominions, so as to diminish or render useless their im- 
portations, have endeavoured to entice workmen from 
other countries, by high salaries, privileges, 8cc. 
Many persons pretending to be skilled in various great 
manufactures, imagining that America must be in 
want of them, and that trie Congress v/ould probably 
be disposed to imitate the princes above mentioned. 



:essays. S5S 

liave proposed to go over, on condition of having their 
passages paid, lands given, salaries appointed, exclu- 
sive privileges for terms of years, &c. Such persons, 
on reading the articles of confederation, will find that 
the Congress have no power committed to them, or 
money put into their hands for such purposes ; and 
that if any such encouragement is given, it must be 
by the government of some particular state. This 
however, has rarely been done in America ; and when 
it has been done, it has rarely succeeded so as to esta- 
blish a manufacture, which the country was not yet so 
ripe for as to encourage private persons to set it up, 
labour being generally too dear there, and hands diffi- 
cult to be kejjt together, every one desiring to be a 
master, and the cheapness of land inclining many to 
leave trades for agriculture. Some indeed have met 
with success, and are carried on to advantage ; but 
they are generally such as require only a few hands, or 
wherein great part of the work is performed by ma- 
chines. Goods that are bulky, and of so small value 
as not well to bear the expence of freight, may often 
be made cheaper in that country than they can be 
imported ; and the manufacture of such goods will be 
profitable wherever there is a sufficient demand. The 
farmers in America produce, indeed, a good deal of 
wool and flax ; and none is exported, it is all worked 
up; but it is in the way of domestic manufacture, for 
the use of the family. The buying up quantities of 
wool and flax, with the design to employ spinners, 
weavers, &c. and form great establishments, producing 
quantities of linen and woolen goods for sale, have been 
several times attempted in different provinces ; but 
these projects have generally failed, goods of equal 
value being imported cheaper. And when the go- 
vernments have been solicited to support such schemes 
by encouragements, in money, or by imposing duties 
on importation of sucii goods, it has been generally 
refused on this principle, that if the country is ripe 
for the manufacture, it may be carried on by private 
persons to advantage ; and if not, it is a folly to think 



7^ 
254 ESSAYS, 

of forcing nature. Great establishments of nfianufac- 
lure, require great numbers of poor to do the work 
for small wages ; those poor are to be found in Eu- 
rope, but will not be found in America, till the lands 
are all taken up ynd cultivated, and the excess of peo- 
ple who cannot get land want employment. The 
manufacture of silk, they say, is natural in France, as 
that of cloth in England, because each country pro- 
duces in plenty the first material : but if England will 
have a manufacture of silk as well as that of cloth, 
and France of cloth as well as that of silk, these 
unnatural operations must be supported by mutual pro- 
hibitions, or high duties on the importation of each 
other's goods ; by which means the workmen are ena* 
bled to tax the home consumer by greater prices, 
while the higher wages they receive makes them nei- 
ther happier nor richer, since they only drink more and 
"Work less. Therefore the governments of America do 
nothing to encourage such projects. The people, by 
this means, are not imposed on, either by the mer- 
chant or mechanic : if the merchant demands too much 
profit on imported shoes, they buy of the shoemaker ; 
and if he asks too high a price, they take them of the 
merchant ; thus the two professions are checks on each 
other. The shoemaker, however, has, on the whole 
a considerable profit upon his labour in America, be- 
yond what he had in Europe, as he can add to his 
price a sum nearly equal to all the expences of freight 
and commission, risque or insurance, 8cc. necessarily 
charged by the merchant. And it is the same with 
every other mechanic art. Hence it is, that artisans ge- 
nerally live better and more easily in America than in 
Europe ; and such as are good oeconomists make a 
comfortable provision for age, and for their children. 
Such may, therefore, remove with advantage to Ame- 
rica. 

In the old long-settled countries of Europe, all arts, 
trades, professions, farms. Sec. are so full, that it is 
difficult for a poor man who has children to place 
them where they may gain, or learn to gain, a decent 
livelihood. The artisans, who fear creating future 



ESSAYS. 255 

rivals in business, refuse to take apprentices, but upon 
conditions of money, maintenance, or the like, which 
the parents are unable to comply with. Here the 
youth are dragged up in ignorance of every gainful 
art, and obliged to become soldiers, or servants, or 
thieves, for a subsistence. In America, the rapid in- 
crease of inhabitants takes away that fear of rivalship, 
and artisans willingly receive apprentices from the 
hope of profit by their labour, during the remainder of 
the time stipulated, after they shall be instructed. 
Hence it is easy for poor families to get their chil- 
dren instructed ; for the artisans are so desirous of ap- 
prentices, that many of them will even give money to 
the parents, to have boys from ten to fifteen years of age 
bound apprentices, to them, till tlie age of twenty-one ; 
and many poor parents have, by that means, on their 
arrival in the country, raised money enough to buy land 
sufficient to establish themselves, and to subsist the rest 
of their family by agriculture. 

These contracts of apprentices are made before a 
magistrate, who regulates the agreement according to 
reason and justice ; and having in view the formation 
of a future useful citizen, obliges the master to engage 
by a written indenture, not only that, during the time 
of service stipulated, the apprentice shall be duly pro- 
vided with meat, drink, apparel, washing, and lodging, 
and at its expiration with a complete new suit of 
clothes, but also that he shall be taught to read, write, 
and cast accounts : and that he shall be well instructed 
in the art or profession of his master, or some other, by 
which he may afterwards gain a livelihood, and be able 
in his turn to raise a family. A copy of this inden- 
ture is given to the apprentice or his friends, and the 
magistrate keeps a record of it, to which recourse may 
be had, in case of failure by the Master in any point 
of performance. This desire among the masters to 
have more hands employed in working for them, induces 
them to pay the passages of young persons, of both 
sexes, who, on their arrival, agree to serve them one, 
two, three, or four years : those who have already learn- 



256 ESSAYS- 

ed a trade, agreeing for a shorter term, in proportion 
to their skill, and the consequent immediate value of 
their service ; and those who have none, agreeing for 
a longer ternti, in consideration of being taught an art 
their poverty would not permit them to acquire in their 
own country. 

The almost general mediocrity of fortune that pre- 
vails in America, obliging its people to follow some 
business for subsistence, those vices that arise usually 
fi'om idleness, are in a great measure prevented. In- 
dustry and constant employment are great preservatives 
of the morals and virtue of a nation. Hence bad 
examples to youth are more rare in America, which 
must be a comfortable consideration to parents. To 
this may be truly added, that serious religion, under it* 
various denominations, is not only tolerated, but re- 
spected and practised. Atheism is unknown there; 
infidelity rare and secret ; so that persons may live to 
a great age in that country without having their piety 
shocked by meeting either with an atheist or an infidel. 
And the Divine Being seems to have manifested hi» 
approbation of the mutual forbearance and kindnes* 
■with which the different sects treat each other, by the 
remarkable prosperity with which he has been pleased 
to favour the whole country. 



FINAL SPEECH OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

IN THE LATE FEDERAL CONVENTION.* 

MR. PRESIDENT. 

I CONFESS that I do not entirely approve of this 
constitution at present : but Sir, I am not sure I shall 

* Our reasons for ascribing this speech to Dr. Franklin, are 
its internal evidence, and its having appeared with his name, 
during his life time, uncontradicted, in an American periodi- 
cal publication, 



ESSAYS. 257 

never approve it ; for having lived long, I have expe- 
rienced many instances of being obliged by better in- 
formation, or further consideration-, to change opinions 
even on important subjects, which I once thought 
right, but found to be otherwise. It is, therefore, 
that the older I grow, the more apt I am to doubt my 
own judgment, and pay more respect to the judgment 
of others. Most men, indeed, as well as most sects of 
religion, think themselves in possession of all truth, and 
that whenever others differ from them, it is so far 
error. Steel, a protestant, in a dedication, tells the 
pope, that " the only difference between our two chur- 
ches, in^ their opinions of the certainty of their doc- 
trines, is, the Romish church is infallible, and the 
church of England never in the wrong." But, though 
many private persons think almost ais highly of their 
own infallibility as of that of their sect, few express it 
so naturally as a certain French lady, who, in a little 
dispute with her sister, said, I don't know how it hap- 
pens, sister, but I meet with nobody but myself that is 
always in the right. 11 n^y a que moi qui a toujours 
raison. In these sentiments. Sir, I agree to this con- 
stitution, with all its faults, if they are such ; because 
1 think a general government necessary for us, and 
there is no form of government, but what may be a 
blessing, if well administered ; and I believe farther, 
that this is likely to be well administered for a course 
of years and can only end in despotism, as other forms 
have done before it, when the people shall become so 
corrupted as to need despotic government, being inca- 
pable of any other. I doubt too, whether any other 
convention we can obtain, may be able to make a bet- 
ter constitution. For when you assemble a number of 
men, to have the advantage of their joint wisdom, you 
assemble with those men, all their prejudices, their pas- 
sions, their errois of opinion, their local interests, and 
their selfish views. From such an assembly can a per- 
fect production be expected ? It therefore astonishes 
me, sir, to find this system approaching so near to per- 
fection as it does ; and I think it will astonish our 



25S ESSAYS. 

enemies, who are waiting with confidence, to hear 
that our councils are confounded, like those of the 
builders of Babylon, and that our states are on the 
point of separation, only to meet hereafter for the pur- 
pose of cutting each other's throats. 

Thus I consent Sir, to this constitution, because I 
expect no better, and because I am not sure that this 
is not the best. The opinions I have had of its errors, 
I sacrifice to the public good. I have never whisper- 
ed a syllable of them abroad. Within these walls 
they were born ; and here they shall die. If every 
one of us in returning to our constituents, were to re- 
port the objection he has had to it, and endeavour to 
gain partisans in support of them, we might prevent 
its being generally received, and thereby lose all the 
salutary effects and great advantages resulting natural- 
ly in our favour among foreign nations, as well as 
among ourselves, from our real and apparent unanimity. 
Much of the strength or efficiency of any government, 
in procuring and securing happiness to the people, de- 
pend on opinion ; on the general opinion of the good- 
ness of that government, as well as of the wisdom and 
integrity of its governors. 

I hope, therefore, that for our own sakes as a part 
of the people, and for the sake of our posterity, we 
shall act heartily and unanimously in recommending 
this constitution, wherever our influence may extend, 
and turn our future thoughts and endeavours to the 
means of having it well administered. 

On the whole, Sir, I cannot help expressing a wish,> 
that every member of the convention, who may still 
have objections, would with me on this occasion, doubt 
a little of his own infallibility, and, to make manifest 
our unanimity, put his name to this instrument. 

[The. motion was then made for adding the last for- 
mula, viz. 

Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent, Sec. 
which was agreed to, and added accordingly.] 



BSSAVS. 259^ 

SKETCH OF AN ENGLISH SCHOOL. 



For the consideration of the Trustees of the P hiladeljihia 
Academy.* 

IT is expected that every scholar to be admitted in- 
to this school, be at least able to pronounce and di- 
vide the syllables in reading, and to write a legible 

hand. None to be received that are under years 

of age. 

FIRST, OR LOWER CLASS. 

Lei the first class learn the English Grammar rules, 
and at the same time let particular care be taken to 
improve them in orthography. Perhaps the latter is 
best done by pairing the scholars ; two of those near- 
est equal in their spelling to be put together. Let 
these strive for victory ; each propounding ten words 
every day to the other to be spelled. He that spells 
truly most of the oiher*s words, is victor for that day; 
he that is victor most days in a month, to obtain a 
prize, a pretty neat book of some kind, useful in their 
future studies. This method fixes the attention of 
children extremely to the orthography of words, and 
makes them good spellers very early. It is a shame 
for a man to be so ignorant of this little art, in his 
own language, as to be perpetually confounding words 
of like sound and different significations ; the con- 
sciousness of which defect makes some men, other- 
wise of good learning and understanding, averse to 
writing even a common letter. 

Let the pieces read by the scholars in this class be 
short ; such as Croxal's fables, and little stories. In 
giving the lessons, let it be read to them ; let the mean- 

* This piece did not come to hand till the volume had 
been some time at the press. This was the case also with 
several other papers ; and must be our apology for any de- 
fect that may appear in the arrangement. 



260 ESSAYS. 

ing of the most difficult words in it be explained to 
them ; and let them con over by themselves before they 
are called to read to the master or usher ; who is to 
take particular care that they do not read too fast, and 
that they duly observe the stops and pauses. A vocabu- 
lary of the most usual difficult words might be formed 
for their use, with explanations ; and they might daily 
get a few of those words and explanations by heart, 
which would a little exercise their memories ; or at 
least they might write a number of them in a small 
book for that purpose, which would help to fix the 
meaning of those words in their minds, and at the same 
time furnish every one with a little dictionary for his 
future use. 

THE SECOND GLASS. 

To be taught reading with attention, and with pro- 
per modulations of the voice; according to the senti- 
ment and subject. 

Some short pieces, not exceeding the length of a 
Spectator, to be given this class for lessons (and some 
of the easier Spectators would be very suitable for 
the purpose.) These lessons might be given every 
night as tasks ; the scholars to study them against the 
morning. Let it then be required of them to give an 
account, first of the parts of speech, and construction of 
one or two sentences. This will oblige them frequently 
to recur to their grammar, and fix its principal rules 
in their memory. Next, of the intention of the wri- 
ter, or the scope of the piece, the meaning of each 
sentence, and of every uncommon word. This would 
early acquaint them with the meaning and force of 
words> and give them that most necessary habit of read- 
ing with attention. 

The masters then to read the piece with proper 
modulations of voice, due emphasis, and suitable action, 
where action is required, and put the youth on imitating 
his manner. 

Where the author has used an expression not the 
best, let it be pointed out ; and let his beauties be par- 
ticularly marked out to the youth. 



ESSAYS. 261 

Let the lessons for reading be varied, that the youth 
may be made acquainted with pfood styles of all kinds 
in prose and verse, and the proper manner of reading 
each kind — sometimes a well-told story, a piece of a 
sermon, a general's speech to his soldiers, a speech in a 
tragedy, some part of a comedy, an ode, a satire, a let- 
ter, blank verse, Hudibrastic, heroic, &c. But let such 
lessons be chosen for reading, as contain some useful 
instruction, whereby the understanding or morals of the 
youth may at the same time be improved. 

It is required that they should first study and un- 
derstand the lessons, before they are put upon reading 
them properly ; to which end each boy should have 
an English dictionary, to help him over difficulties. 
When our boys read English to us, we are apt to ima- 
gine they understand what they read, because we do, 
and because it is their mother tongue. But they of- 
ten read, as parrots speak, knowing little or nothing, 
of the meaning And it is impossible a reader shoukl 
give the due modulation to his voice, and pronounce 
properly, unless his understanding goes before his. 
tongue, and makes him master of the sentiment. Ac» 
customing boys to read aloud what they do not first un- 
derstand, is the cause of those even set tones so common; 
among readers, which when they have once got a habit 
of using, they find so difficult to correct ; by which 
means, among fifty readers we scarcely find a good one. 
For want of good readers, pieces published with a view 
to influence the minds of men, for their own or the pub- 
lic benefit, lose half their force Were there but one 
good reader in a neighbourhood, a public orator might 
be heard throughout a nation with the same advantages, 
and have the same effect upon his audience, as if they 
stood within the reach of his voice. 

TUB THIRB CLASS. 

To be taught speaking properly and gracefully ; 
which is near a-kin to good reading, and naturally fol- 
lows it in the studies of youth. Let the scholars of 
this class begin with learning the elements of rhetoric 
from some short system, so as to be^able to give an 
account of the most useful tropes and figures. Let all 



262 ESSAYS. 

their bad habits of speaking, all offences against good 
grammar, all corrupt or foreign accents, and all im- 
proper phrases, be pointed out to them. Short speech- 
es from the Roman or other history, or from the par- 
liamentary debates, might be got by heart, and deli- 
vered with the proper action, &c. Speeches and scenes 
in our best tragedies and comedies (avoiding things 
that could injure the morals of youth) might likewise 
be got by rote, and the boys exercised in delivering or 
acting them : great care being taken to form their man- 
ner after the truest models. 

For their farther improvement, and a little to vary 
their studies, let them now begin to read history, after 
having got by heart a short table of the principal 
epochas in chronology. They may begin with Rollings 
ancient and Roman histories, and proceed at proper 
hours, as they go through the subsequent classes, with 
the best histories of our own nation and colonies. Let 
emulation be excited among the boys, by giving, weekly, 
little prizes, or other small encouragements, to those 
who are able to give the best account of what they have 
read as to times, places, names of persons, &c. This 
will make them read with attention, and imprint the 
history well in their memories. In remarking on the 
history, the master will have fine opportunities of in- 
stilling instruction of various kinds, and improving the 
morals, as well as the understandings, of youth. 

The natural and mechanic history, contained in the 
Sfiectacle de la JVature^ might also be begun in this class, 
and continued through the subsequent classes, by other 
books of the same kind : for, next to the knowledge of 
duty, this kind of knowledge is certainly the most useful, 
as well as the most entertaining. — The merchant may 
thereby be enabled better to understand many commodi- 
ties in trade ; the handicraftman to improve his bu- 
siness by new instruments, mixtures, and materials; and 
frequently hints are given for new manufactures or new 
methods of improving land, that may be set on foot 
greatly to the advantage of the country. 



ESSAYS. ,2^3 

THE FOURTH CLASS. 

To be taught composition. Writing one's own 
language well, is the next necessary accomplishment 
after good speaking. It is the writing-master's busi- 
ness to take care that the boys make fair characters, 
and place them straight and even in the lines : but to 
form their style, and even to take care that the stops 
and capitals are properly disposed, is the part of the 
English master. The boys should be put on writing 
letters to each other on any common occurrences, 
and on various subjects, imaginary business, &c. con- 
taining little stories, accounts of their late reading, 
what parts of authors please them, and why ; letters 
of congratulation, of compliment, of request, of thanks, 
of recommendation, of admonition, of consolation, ex- 
postulation, excuse. Sec. In these they should be 
taught to express themselves clearly, concisely and na- 
turally, without affected words or high-flown phrases, 
All their letters to pass through the master's hand, 
who is to point out the faults, advise the corrections, 
and commend what he finds right. Some of the best 
letters published in our own language, as Sir W. Tem- 
ple's, those of Pope and his friends, and some others, 
might be set before the youth as models, their beauties 
pointed out and explained by the master, the letters 
themselves transcribed by the scholar. 

Dr. Johnson's Ethices Elementa^ or First Principles 
of Morality, may now be read by the scholars, and 
explained by the master, to lay a solid foundation of 
virtue and piety in their minds. And as this class 
continues the reading of history, let them now, at pro- 
per hours, receive some farther instruction in chrono- 
logy, and in that part of geography (from the mathe- 
matical master) which is necessary to understand the 
maps and globes. They should also be acquainted with 
the modern names of the places they find mentioned in 
ancient writers. The exercises of good reading, and 
proper speaking still continued at suitable times. 



'.364 ESSAYS^ 

FIFTH CLASS. 

To improve the youth in composition, they may 
now, besides continuing to write letters, begin to write 
little essays in prose, and sometimes in verse ; not to 
make them poets, but for this reason, that nothing 
acquaints a lad so speedily with variety of expression, 
as the necessity of finding such words and phrases as 
will suit the measure, sound and rhime of verse, and 
at the same time well express the sentiment. These 
essays should all pass under the master's eye, who 
will point out their faults, and put the writer on cor- 
recting them. Where the judgment is not ripe 
enough for forming new essays, let the sentiments of 
a Spectator be given, and required to be clothed in the 
scholar's own words j or the circumstance of some 
good story : the scholar to find expression. Let them 
be put sometimes on abridging a paragraph of a diffuse 
author : sometimes on dilating or amplifying what is 
wrote more closely. And now let Dr. Johnson's Kot- 
tica^ or First Principles of Human Knowledge, contain- 
ing a logic, or art of reasoning, Sec be read by the youth, 
and the difficulties that may occur to them be explained 
by the master. The reading of history, and the exer- 
cises of good reading and just speaking, still continued. 

SIXTH CLASS. 

In the class, besides continuing the studies of the pre- 
ceding in history, rhetoric, logic, moral and natural 
philosophy, the best English authors may be read and 
explained ; asTillotson, Miltois Locke, Addison, Pope, 
Sv ifi, the higher papers in the Spectator and Guardian, 
the best translations of Homer, Virgil and Horace, of 
Teiemachus, Travels of Cyrus, &c. 

Once a )^ear let there be public exercises in the hall; 
the trustees and citizens present. Then let fine gilt 
books be given as prizes to such boys as distinguish 
themselves, and excel the others in any branch of learn- 
ing, making three degrees of comparison : giving the- 
best prize to him that performs best ; a less valuable 



ESSAYS. 265 

ene to him that comes up next to the best ; and another 
to the third. Commendation, encouragement, and advice 
to the rest ; keeping up their hopes, that, by industry, 
they may excel another time. The names of those that 
obtain the prize to be yearly printed in a list. 

The hours of each day are to be divided and dispo- 
sed in such a manner as that some classes may be with 
the writing-master improving their hands ; others with 
the mathematical-master, learning arithmetic, accounts, 
geography, use of the globes, drawing, mechanics, &c. 
while the rest are in the English school, under the 
English master's care. 

Thus instructed, youth will come out of this school 
fitted for learning any business, calling, or profession, 
except such wherein languages are required ; and 
though unacquainted with any ancient or foreign 
tongue, they will be masters of their own, which is of 
more immediate and general use ; and withal will have 
attained many other valuable accomplishments : the 
time usually spent in acquiring those languages, often 
without success, being here employed in laying such 
a foundation of knowledge and ability, as properly im- 
proved, may qualify them to pass through and execute 
the several offices of civil life, with advantage and re- 
putation to themselves and country, 



THE BUSY-BODY.—No. I. 

From the jimerican Weekly Mercury, from Tuesday^ 
January 28, to Tuesday , February 4, 1728^ — 9. 

MR. ANDREW BRADFORD, 

I DESIGN this to acquaint you, that I, who have 
long been one of your courteous readers, have lately 
entertained some thought of setting up for an author 

Z 



266 ESSAT&i 

myself: not out of the least vanity, I assure yeti, or 
desire of showing my parts, but purely for the good of 
my country. 

I have often observed with concern, that your Mer- 
cury is not always equally entertaining. The delay of 
ships expected in, and want of fresh advices from Eu- 
rope, make it frequently very dull ; and I find the 
freezing of our river tias the same effect on news as 
trade. With more concern have I continually observ- 
ed the growing vices and follies of my country folk ; 
and though reformation is properly the concern of ev- 
ery man, that is, every one ought to mend one ; yet 
it is too true in this case, that what is every body's bu- 
siness is no body's niusiness, and the business is done 
accordingly. I therefore, upon mature deliberation, 
think lit to take no body's business wholly into my own 
hands j and, out of zeal for the public good, design to 
erect myself into a kind of censor morum ; purposing 
with your allowance, to make use of the Weekly Mer- 
cury as a vehicle, in which my remonstrances shall be 
conveyed to the world. 

I am sensible I have, in this particular, undertaken 
a very unthankful office, and expect little besides my 
labour for my pains. Nay, it is probable, I may dis- 
please a great number of your readers, who will not 
very well like to pay ten shillings a year for being told 
of their faults. But as most people delight in cen- 
sure, when they themselves are not the objects of it, if 
any are offended at my publicly exposing their private 
vices, I promise they shall have the satisfaction, in a 
very little time, of seeing their good friends and neigh- 
bours in the same circumstances. 

However, let the fair sex be assured that I shall al- 
ways treat them and their affairs with the utmost de- 
cency and respect. I intend now and then to dedicate 
a chapter wholly to their service ; and if my lectures 
any way contribute to the embellishment of their 
minds, and brightening of their understandings, with- 
out offending their modesty, I doubt not of having 
their favour and encouragement. 



?:ssAxs. 267 

It is certain, that no country in the world produces 
naturally finer spirits than ours, men of genius for 
every kind of science, and capable of acquiring to per- 
fection every qualification that is in esteem among 
mankind. But as few here have the advantage of 
good books, for want of which, good conversation is 
still more scarce, it would doubtless, have been very 
acceptable to your readers, if, instead of an old out-of- 
date article from Muscovy or Hungary, you had en- 
tertained them with some well chosen extract from a 
good author. This I shall sometimes do, when I hap- 
pen to have nothing of my own to say that I think of 
more consequence. Sometimes, I purpose to deliver 
lectures of morality or philosophy, and (because I am 
naturally inclined to be meddling with things that do 
not concern me) perhaps I may sometimes talk poli- 
tics. And if I can by any means furnish out a weekly 
entertainment for the public, that will give a rational 
diversion, and at the same time be instructive to the 
readers, I shall think my leisure hours well employed : 
and if you publish this, I hereby invite all ingenious 
gentlemen and others (that approve of such an under- 
taking) to my assistance and correspondence. 

It is like, by this time, you have a curiosity to be 
acquainted with my name and character. As I do not 
aim at public praise, I design to remain concealed ; 
and there are such numbers of our family and relations 
at this time in the country, that, though I have signed 
my name at full length, I am not under the least ap- 
prehension of being distinguished and discovered by it. 
My character indeed, I would favour you with, but 
that I am cautious of praising snyself, lest 1 should be 
told my trumpeter's dead : and I cannot find in my 
heart, at present, to say any thing to my own disadvan- 
tage. 

It is very common with authors in their first per- 
formances, to talk to their readers thus, If this meets 
with a suitable reception, or, if this should meet with 
due encouragement, I shall hereafter publish, Sec. — 
This only manifests the value they put on their own 



268 ESSAYS. 

writings, since they tliink to frighten tiie public into 
their applause, by threatening, that unless you approve 
what they have already wrote, they intend never to 
write again ; when perhaps it may not be a pin mat- 
ter whether they ever do or no. As 1 have not ob- 
served the critics to be more favourable on this account* 
I shall always avoid saying any thing of the kind ; and 
conclude with telling you, that if you send me a bottle 
of ink and a quire of paper by the bearer, you may de* 
pend on hearing further from, 

Sir, 
Your most humble servant, 

THE BUSY-BODY. 



THE BUSY-BODY.-.N0. II. 

From Tuesday, February 4, to Tuesday j February U, 
1728—9. 

All fools have still an itching to deride. 

And fain would be upon the laughing side — ^Pope. 

MONSIEUR Rochefocault tells us somewhere in 
his Memoirs, that the Prince of Conde delighted 
much in ridicule, and used frequenly to shut himself 
up for half a day together, in his chamber, with a 
gentleman, that was his favourite, purposely to di- 
vert himself with examining what was the foible, or 
ridiculous side of every noted person in the court.— 
That gentleman said afterwards in some company, that 
he thought nothing was more ridiculous in any body, 
than this same humour in the prince ; and I am some- 
what inclined to be of this opinion. The general 
tendency there is among us to this embellishment 
(which I fear has too often grossly imposed upon my 



ESSAYS. ' 259 

loving countrymen instead of wit) and the applause it 
meets with from a rising- generation, fill me with 
fearful apprehensions for the future reputation of my 
country: a young man of modesty (which is the most 
certain indication of large capacities) is hereby dis- 
couraged from attempting to make any figure in life ; 
his apprehensions of being out-laughed, will force him 
to continue in a restless obscurity, without having an 
opportunity of knowing his own merit himself, or dis- 
covering it to the world, rather than venture to ex- 
pose himself in a place, where a pun or a sneer shall 
pass for wit, noise for reason, and the strength of the 
argument be judged by that of the lungs. Among 
these witty gentlemen, let us take a view of Ridentius : 
what a contemptible figure does he make with his 
train of paltry admirers ? This wight shall give him- 
self an hours diversion with the cock of a man's hat, 
the heels of his shoes, an unguarded expression in his 
discourse, or even some personal defect ; and the 
height of his low ambition is to put some one of the 
company to the blush, who perhaps must pay an equal 
share of the reckoning with himself. If such a fellow 
makes laughing the sole end and purpose of his life, 
if it is necessary to his constitution, or if he has a 
great desire of growing suddenly fat.^ let him eat ; let 
him give public notice where any dull stupid rogues 
may get a quart of four penny for being laughed at ; 
but it is barbarously unhandsome, when friends meet 
for the benefit of conversation, and a proper relaxation 
from business, that one should be the butt of the com- 
pany, and four men made merry at the cost of the 
fifth. 

How differem from this character is that of the 
good-natured gay lAigenius ! who never spoke yet 
but with a design to divert and please ; and who was 
never yet b;mlked in his intention. Eugenius takes 
more delight in applying the wit of his friends, than in 
being admired himself; and if any one of the compa* 
ny is so unfortunate as to be touched a little too nearly, 
Z2 



2rO ESSAYS. 

he will make use of some ingenious artifice to turn the 
edge of ridicule another way, choosing rather to make 
himself a public jest, than be at the pain of seeing his 
friend in confusion. 

Among the tribe of laughers I reckon the pretty 
gentlemen that write satyrs, and carry them about in 
their pockets, reading them themselves in all com- 
pany they happen into j taking an advantage of the ill 
taste of the town, to make themselves famous for a 
pack of paltry low nonsense, for which they deserve 
to be kicked, rather than admired, by all who have 
the least tincture of politeness. These I take to be 
the most incorrigible of all my readers ; nay, I expect 
they will be squibbing at the Busy-Body himself — 
However, the only favour he begs of them is this, 
that if they cannot controul their overbearing itch of 
scribbling, let him be attacked in downright biting 
lyrics ; for there is no satyr he dreads half so much, 
as an attempt at panegyric. 



THE BUSY-BODY— No. III. 

l^'rojn Tuesday y February 11, to Tuesday j February 
18, 1728—9. 

Non vultus, instantis Tyranni 

Mente quatit solid a, nee auster, 

Dux inquieti turbidus Adaize, 

Nee fulmiriantis magna Jovis manus. — Hor. 

IT is said, that the Persians, in their ancient consti- 
tution, had public schools, in which virtue was taught 
as a liberal art or science ; and it is certainly of more 
consequence to a man, that he has learnt to govern his 
passions, in spite of temptation j to be just in his deal- 



ESSAYSi 271 

ings, to be temperate in his pleasures, to support him- 
self with fortitude under his misfortunes, to behave 
ivith prudence in all his affairs, and in every circum- 
stance of life ; I say, it is of much more real advan- 
tage to him to be thus qualified, than to be a master of 
all the arts and sciences in the world beside. 

Virtue alone is sufficient to make a man great, glo- 
rious, and happy. He that is acquainted with Cato, 
as I am, cannot help thinking as I do now, and will ac- 
knowledge that he deserves the name, without being 
honoured by it. Cato is a man whom fortune has placed 
in the most obscure part of the country. His circum- 
stances are such, as only to put him above necessity, 
without affording him many superfluities : yet who is 
greater than Cato ? I happened but the other day to 
be at a house in town, where, among others, were met 
men of the most note in this place ; Cato had business 
with some of them, and knocked at the door. The 
most trifling actions of a man, in my opinion, as well 
as the smallest features and lineaments of the face, 
give a nice observer some notion of his mind. Me- 
thought he rapped in such a peculiar manner, as seem- 
ed of itself to express there was one who deserved as 
well as desired admission. He appeared in the plain- 
est country garb ; his great coat was coarse, and looked 
old and threadbare ; his linen was homespun ; his 
beard, perhaps, of seven days growth ; his shoes thick 
and heavy j and every part of his dress corresponding. 
Why was this man received with such concurring re- 
spect from every person in the room, even from those 
who had never known him or seen him before ? It 
■was not an exquisite form of person or grandeur of 
dress that struck us with admiration. I believe long 
habits of virtue have a sensible effect on the counte- 
nance ; there was something in the air of his face, that 
manifested the true greatness of his mind : which like- 
wise appeared in all he said, and in every part of his 
behaviour, obliging us to regard him with a kind of 
veneration. His aspect was sweetened by humanity and 



272 ESSAYS. 

benevolence, and at the same time emboldened with 
resolution, equally free from diffident bashfulness and 
an unbecon^ing assurance. The consciousness of his 
own innate worth and unshaken integrity, renders him 
calm and undaunted in the presence of the most great 
and powerful, and upon the most extraordinary occa- 
sions. His strict justice and known impartiality make 
him the arbitrator and decider of all differences, that 
arise for many miles around him, without putting his 
neighbours to the charge, perplexity, and uncertainty 
of law-suits. He always speaks the thing he means, 
which he is never afraid or ashamed to do, because he 
knows he always means well ; and therefore is never 
obliged to blush, and feel the confusion of finding him- 
self detected in the meanness of a falsehood. He ne- 
ver contrives ill against his neighbour, and therefore is 
never seen with a lowering suspicious aspect. A mix- 
ture of innocence and wisdom makes him ever seri- 
ously cheerful. His generous hospitality to strangers, 
according to his ability, his goodness, his charity, his 
courage in the cause of the oppressed, his fidelity 
in friendship, his humility, his honesty and sincerity, 
his moderation and his loyalty to the government, his 
piety, his temperance, his love to mankind, his magna- 
nimity, his public spiritedness, and, in fine, his consum- 
mate virtue, make him justly deserve to be esteemed 
the giory of his country. 

The brave do nevei? shun the light. 

Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers ; 

Freely without disguise they love and hate; 

Still are they found in the fair face of day, 

And heaven and men are judges of their actions. — rowe. 

Who would not rather choose, if it were in his 
choice, to merit the above character, than be the rich- 
est, the most learned, or the most powerful man in the 
province without it ? 

Almost every man has a strong natural desire of be- 
ing valued and esteemed by the rest of his species ; 



ESSAYS. 273 

but I am concerned and grieved to see how few fall 
into the right and only infallible method of becoming 
so. That laudable ambition is too commonly misap- 
plied, and often ill employed. Some, to make them- 
selves considerable, pursue learning ; others grasp at 
wealth ; some aim at being thought witty ; and others 
are only careful to make the most of an handsome per- 
son : but what is wit, or wealth, or form, or learning, 
when compared with virtue ? It is true, we love the 
handsonie, we applaud the learned, and we fear the 
rich and powerful ; but we even worship and adore 
the virtuous. Nor is it strange ; since men of virtue 
are so rare, so very rare to be found. If we were as 
industrious to become good, as to make ourselves 
great, we should become really great by being good, 
and the number of valuable men would be much in- 
creased : but it is a grand mistake to think of being 
great without goodness ; and I pronounce it as certain, 
that there was never yet a truly great man, that was 
not at the same time truly virtuous. 

O Cretico ! thou sour philosopher ! thou cunning 
statesman ! thou art crafty, but far from being wise. 
When wilt thou be esteemed, regarded, and beloved 
like Cato ? When wilt thou, among thy creatures, 
meet with that unfeigned respect and warm good-will 
that all men have for him ? Wilt thou never under- 
stand, that the cringing, mean, submissive deportment 
of thy dependants, is (like the worship paid by Indians 
to the devil) rather through fear of the harm thou 
mayest do them, than out of gratitude for the favours 
they have received of thee ? Thou art not wholly void 
of virtue ; there are many good things in thee, and 
many good actions reported of thee. Be advised by 
thy friend : neglect those musty authors ; let them be 
covered with dust, and moulder on their proper shelves; 
and do thou apply thyself to a study much more pro- 
fitable, the knowledge of mankind and of thyself. 

This is to give notice, that the Busy-Body strictly 
forbids all persons, from this time forward, of what 



274 ESSAYS. 

age, sex, rank, quality, degree, or denomination so- 
ever, on any pretence, to inquire who is the author 
of this paper, on pain of his displeasure, (his own 
near and dear relations only excepted.) 

It is to be observed, that if any bad characters hap- 
pen to be drawn in the course of these papers, they 
mean no particular person, if they are not particularly 
applied. 

Likewise that the author is no party-man, but a gen- 
eral meddler. 

N. B. Cretico lives in a neighbouring province. 



THE BUSY BODY.— No IT. 

From Tuesday y February 18, to Tuesday^ February 2^ 
1728 — 9. 



Nequid nimis. 

IN my first paper, 1 invited the learned and the 
ingenious to join with me in the undertaking ; and 
I now repeat that invitation. I would have such gen- 
tlemen take this opportunity (by trying their talent in 
writing) of diverting themselves and friends, and im- 
proving the taste of the town. And because I would 
encourage all wit of our own growth and produce, I 
hereby promise, that whoever shall send me a little 
essay on some moral or other subject, that is fit for 
public view in this manner, (and not basely borrowed 
from any other author) I shall receive it with candour, 
and take care to place it to the best advantage. It will 
be hard, if we cannot muster up in the whole country 
a sufficient stock of sense to supply the Busy-Body at 
least for a twelve month. For my own part, I have 



ESSAYS. 27^ 

already professed, that I have the good of my country 
wholly at heart in this design, without the least sinis- 
ter view ; my chief purpose being to inculcate the no- 
ble principles of virtue, and depreciate vice of every 
kind. But as I know the mob hate instruction, and 
the generality would never read beyond the first line 
of my lectures, if they were actually filled with nothing 
but wholesome precepts and advice, I must therefore 
sometimes humour them in their own way. There 
are a set of great names in the province, who are the 
common objects of popular dislike. If I can now and 
then overcome my reluctance, and prevail with my- 
self to sacarize a little, one of these gentlemen, the 
expectation of meeting with such a gratification will 
induce many to read me through, who would other- 
wise proceed immediately to the foreign news. As I 
am very well assured the greatest men among us have 
a sincere love for their country, notwithstanding its 
ingratitude, and the insinuations of the envious and 
malicious to the contrary, so I doubt not but they will 
cheerfully tolerate me in the liberty I design to take 
for the end above-mentioned. 

As yet I have but few correspondents, though they 
begin now to increase. The following letter, left for 
me at the printer's is one of the first I have received, 
which I regard the more for that it comes from one 
of the fair sex, and because I have myself often- 
times suffered under the grievance therein complained 
of. 

TO THE BUSY-BODY, 

Sir, 

You having set yourself up for a censuror morum 
(as I think you call it) which is said to mean a reformer 
of manners, I know no person more proper to be ap- 
plied for redress in all the grievances we suffer from 
want of manners in some people. You must know, 
I am a single women, and keep a shop in this town for 



276 ESSAYS.' 

a livelihood. There is a certain neighbour of mine, 
who is really agreeable company enough, and with 
whom I have had an intimacy of some time standing; 
but of late she makes her visits so exceedingly often, 
and stays so very long every visit, that I am tired out 
of all patience. I have no manner of time at all to my- 
self: and you, who seem to be a wise man, must 
needs be sensible, that every person has little secrets 
and privacies, that are not proper to be exposed even 
to the nearest friend. Now I cannot do the least thing 
in the world, but she must know about it ; and it is a 
wonder I have found an opportunity to write you this 
letter. My misfortune is, that I respect her very 
well, and know not how to disoblige her so much as 
to tell her, I should be glad to have less of her compa- 
ny ; for if I should once hint such a thing, I am afraid 
she would resent it so as never to darken my door 
again. — But alas, Sir, I have not yet told you half my 
affliction. She has two children that are just big 
enough to run about and do pretty mischief: these 
are continually along with mamma, either in my 
room or shop, if I have ever so many customers or peo- 
ple with me about business. Sometimes they pull 
the goods off my Jow shelves, down to the ground, and 
perhaps where one of them has just been making wa- 
ter. My friend takes up the stuff, and cries, *' O I 
thou little wicked mischievous rogue ?" But however, 
it has done no great damage ; it is only wet a little, 
and so puts it up upon the shelf again. Sometimes 
tliey get to my casks of nails behind the counter, and 
divert themselves, to my great vexation, with mix- 
ing my ten-penny and eight-penny and four-penny to- 
gether. I endeavoured to conceal my uneasiness as 
much as possible, and with a grave look go to sorting 
them out. She cries, " Dont thee trouble thyself, 
neighbour. Let them play a little ; I'll put all to rights 
before I go." But things are never so put to rights 
but that I find a great deal of work to do after they are 
gone. Thus, Sir, 1 have all the trouble and pester- 



ESSAYS. 277 

ment of children, withom the pleasure of calling them 
Jny own ; and they are now so used to being here that 
they will be content no where else. If she would have 
been so kind as to have moderated her visits to ten 
times a day, and staid but half an hour at a time, I 
should have been contented, and I believe never have 
given you this trouble. But this very morning they 
have so tormented me that I could bear no longer; 
for \vhile the mother was asking me twenty imperti- 
nent questions, the youngest got to my nails, and with 
great delight rattled them by handsiul all over the 
floor ; and the other at the same time made such a 
terrible din upon my counter with a hammer, that I 
grew half distracted. I was just then about to make 
myself a new suit of pinners, but in the fret and con- 
fusion I cut it quite out of all manner of shape, and ut- 
terly spoiled a piece of the first muslin. Pray, Sir, 
tell me what I shall do. And talk a little against such 
unreasonable visiting in your next paper ; though I 
would not have her affronted with me for a great deal, 
for sincerely I love her and her children, as well, I 
think, as a neighbour can, and she buys a great many 
things in a year at my shop. But I would beg her to 
consider, that she uses me unmercifully, though I be- 
lieve it is only for want of thouii,ht. But 1 have twen- 
ty things more to tell you besides all this : there is a 
handsome gentleman that has a mind (I dont question) 
to make love to me ; but he can't get the opportunity 
to — -. O dear, here she comes again ; 1 must con- 
clude. 

" Your's, &c. 

" PATIENCE." 

Indeed, it is well enough, as it happens, that she 

is come to shorten this complaint, which I think is 

full long enough already, and probably would otherwise 

have been as long again. However, I must confess, I 

Aa 



3T8 ESSAYS. 

cannot help pitying my correspondent's case, and in 
her behalf, exhort the visitor to remember and consi- 
der the words of the wise man, Withdraw thy foot from 
the house of thy neighbour, lest he grow weary of thee 
and so hate thee. It is, I believe, a nice thing and 
very difficult, to regulate our visits in such a manner, 
as never to give offence, by coming too seldom, or 
too often, or departing too abruptly, or staying too 
long. However, in my opinion, it is safest for most 
people, in a general way, who are unwilling to dis- 
oblige, to visit seldom, and tarry but a little while in 
a place ; notwithstanding pressing invitations, which 
are many times insincere. And though more of your 
company should be really desired ; yet in this case, 
too much reservedn§:ss is a fault more easily excused 
than the contrary. 

Men are subject to various inconveniences merely 
throuf^h lack of a small share of courage, which is a 
cjUdUty very necessary in the common occurrences of 
life, as well as in a battle. How many impertinencies 
do we daily suffer with great uneasiness, because we 
have not courage enough to discover our dislike I And 
why may not a man' use the boldness and freedom of 
telling his friends, that their long visits sometimes in- 
commode him? On this occasion, it may be enter- 
taining to some of my readers, if 1 acquaint them with 
the 1 urkish manner of entertaining visitors, which I 
have from an author of unquestionable veracity : who 
assures us, that even the Turks are not so ignorant of 
civility and the arts of endearment, but that they can 
practise them with as much exactness as any other 
nation, whenever they have a mind to show them- 
selves obliging. 

" When you visit a person of quality (says he) and 
having tdlked over your business, or the compliments, 
or whatever concern brought you thither, he makes a 
sign to have things served in for the entertainment, 
which is generally a little sweetmeat, a dish of sherbet, 
and another of coffee ; all which are immediately 



ESSAYS. 279 

brought in by the servants, and tendered to all the 
guests in order, with the greatest care and avvfulness 
imaginable. At last comes the finishing pcirt of your 
entertainment, which is perfuming the ^beards of the 
company: a ceremony which is performed in this 
manner. They have for the purpose a small silver 
chaffing dish, covered with a lid full of holes, and fix- 
ed, upon a handsome plate. In this they put some 
fresh coals, and upon them a piece of lij?:num aloes, 
and shutting it up, the smoke immediately ascends 
with a grateful odour through the holes of the cover. 
This smoke is held under every one*s chin, and oifer- 
ed as it were a sacrifice to his beard. The bristly idol 
soon receives the reverence done to it, and so gvzzzllVy 
asks in and incorporates the -j^ummy stream, that it re- 
tains the savour of it, and may serve for a nosegay a 
good while after. 

" This ceremony may perhaps seem ridiculous at 
first hearing ; but it passes among the Turks for an 
high gratification. And I will say this in its vindica- 
tion, that its design is very wise and useful. For it is 
understood to give a civil dismission to the visitants, in- 
timating to them, that the master of the house has bu- 
siness to do, or some other avocation, that permits 
them to go away as soon as they please ; and the soon- 
er after this ceremony the better. By this means 
you may, at any time, without offence, deliver your- 
self from being detained from your affairs by tedious 
and uiiseasonable visits ; and from being constrained 
to use that piece of hypocrisy, so common in the 
world, of pressing those to stay longer with you, whom 
perhaps in your heart you wish a great way off, for 
having troubled you so long already." 

Thus far my author. For my own part, I have ta- 
ken such a fancy to this Turkish custom, that for the 
future I shall put something like it in practice. I have 
provided a bottle of right French brandy for the men, 
and citron water for the ladies. After I have treated 
with a dram, and presented a pinch of my best snuff, I 



280 ESSAYS. 

expect all company will retire, and leave /hie to purstte 
my studies for the good of the public* 

ADVERTISEMENT. 

I give notice that 1 am now actually compiling, and 
design to publish in a short time, the true history of 
the rise, growth, and progress of the renowned Tiff 
Club. All persons who are acquainted with any facts, 
circumstances, characters, transactions, &c. which- will 
be requisite to the perfecting and embellishment of the 
said work, are desired to communicate the same to 
the author, and direct their letters to be left with the 
printer herco£ 

The letter signed Vv"ouId-be-som©thing is come t£^ 
hand. 



THE BUSY-BODY.—No. V. 

From Tuesday^ February 25 to Tuesday,^ March 4> 
17*2 8— 9. 

Vcs, o patricius sanguis, quos vivere fas est, 
Qccipiti caeco, posticae occurite sannae. pebsius. 

THIS paper being designed for a terror to evit 
doers, as well as a praise to them that do well, I 
am lifted up with secret joy to find, that my undertak- 
ing is approved, and encouraged by the just and good, 
and that few are against me but those who have reason 
to fear me. 

There are little follies in the behaviour of most 
men, which their best friends are too tender to acquaint 
them with ; there are little vices and small crimes 
which the law has no regard to or remedy for ; there 
are likewise great pieces of villainy sometimes so craft- 



ESSAYS. 28l 

ily accomplished, and so circumspectly guarded, that 
the law can take no hold of the actors. All these things, 
and all things of tins nature, come within my province 
as Censor, and I am determined not to be negligent 
of the trust I have reposed in myself, but resolve to 
execute my oifice diligently and fviithfuily. 

And that all the world may judge with how much 
humanity, as well as justice, I shall behave in this of- 
fice : and that even my enemies may be convinced I 
take no delight to rake into the dunghill lives of vicious 
men ; and to the end that certain persons may be a 
little eased of their fears, and relieved from the terri- 
ble palpitations tiiey have lately felt and suffered, and 
do still suffer; I hereby graciously pass an act of gen- 
eral oblivion, for all offences, crimes, and misde- 
meanors, of what kind soever, committed from the 
beginning of the year 1681, until the day of the date 
of my first paper, and promise only to concern myself 
wit1i such as have been since and shall hereafter be 
committed. I shall take no notice who has (hereto- 
fore) raised a fortune by fraud and oppression, nor 
who by deceit and hypocrisy ; what woman has been 
false to her good husband's bed, nor what man has, 
by barbarous usage or neglect, broke the heart of a 
faithful wife, and wasted his health and substance in 
debauchery: what base wretch has betrayed bis friend, 
and sold his honesty for gold, nor what baser wretch first 
corrupted hi.n, and then bought the bargain : all this, 
and much more of the same kind, I shall forget, and 
pass over in silence ; but then it is to be observed, that 
I expect and require a sudden and general amend- 
ment. 

These threatenings of mine, I hope will have a good 
effect, and, if regarded, may prevent abundance of 
folly and wickediiess in others, and at the same time, 
save me abundance of trouble ; and that people may 
not flatter themselves with the hope of concealing 
their loose misdemeanors from my knowledge, and 
in that view persist in evil doing, I must acquaint 
Aa2 



282 ESSAYS. 

them, that I have lately entered into an intimacy with 
the extraordinary person, who some time since wrote 
me the followinii^ letter ; and who, having a wonderful 
faculty, that enables him to discover the most secret 
iniquity, is capable of giving me great assistance in 
my designed work of reformation. 



Mr. Busy-Body^ 

I REJOICE, Sir, at the opportunity you have giv- 
en me to be serviceable to you, and, by your means, 
to this province. You must know, that such have been 
the circumstances of my life, and such were the mar- 
vellous occurrences of my birth, that I have not only 
a faculty of discovering the actions of persons, that are 
absent or asleep, but even of the devil himself, in ma- 
ny of his secret workings, in the various shapes, hab- 
its, and iiw^mes of men and women; and having tra- 
velled and conversed much, and met with but a very 
few of the same perceptions and qualifications, I can 
recommend myself to you as the most useful man you 
can correspond with. My father's father's father (for 
we had no grandfathers in our family) was the same 
John Bunyan that writ that memorable book. The 
Pilgrim's Progress, who had, in some degree a natu- 
ral faculty of second sight. This faculty (how derived 
to him our family memoirs are not very clear) was en- 
joyed by all his descendants, but not by equal talents. 
It was very dim in several of my first cousins, and 
probably had been nearly extinct in our particular 
branch, had not my father been a traveller. He lived, 
in his youthful days in New-England. There he mar- 
ried, and there was born my elder brother, who had so 
much of this faculty, as to discover witches in some of 
their occult performances. My parents transporting 
themselves to Great Britain, my second brother's 
birth was in that kingdom. He shared but a small por- 
tion of this virtue, being only able to discern transac- 
tions about the time of, and for the most part after 



ESSAYS. 283 

their happening. My good father, who delighted in 
the Pilj^rim*s Progress, and mountainous places, took 
shipping, with his wife, for Scotland, and inhabited in 
the Highlands, where myself was born ; and whether 
the soil, climate, or astral influences, of which are 
preserved divers prognostics, restored our ancestor's 
natural faculty of second sight, in a greater lustre to 
me, than it had shined in through several generations, 
I will not here discuss. But so it is, that I am possess- 
ed largely of it, and design, if you encourage the pro- 
posal, to take this opportunity of doing good with it, 
which I question not will be accepted of in a grateful 
way by many of your honest readers, though the dis- 
covery of my extraction bodes me no deference from 
your great scholars and modern philosophers. This 
my father was long ago aware of, and least the name 
alone should hurt the fortunes of his children, he, in 
his shiftings from one 'country to another, wisely 
changed it. 

" Sir, I have only this further to say, how I m|y be 
useful to you, and as a reason for my not making my- 
self more known in the world : by virtue of this great 
gift of nature, second sightedness, I do continually 
see numbers of men, women, and children, of all ranks, 
and what they are doing, while I am sitting in my 
closet ; which is too great a burthen for the mind, and 
makes me also conceit, even against reason, that all 
this host of people can see and observe me, which 
strongly inclines me to solitude, and an obscure 
living; and on the other hand, it will be an ease to me 
to disburden my thoughts and observations in the 
way proposed to you, by Sir, your friend and humble 
servant.'* 

I conceal this correspondent's name, in my care 
for his life and safety, and cannot but approve his pru- 
dence, in choosing to live obscurely I remember 
the fate of my poor monkey : he had an illnatured 
trick of grinning and chattering at evyry thing he saw 
in pttticoats: my ignorant (ountry nei.^hbours got a 
notion, that pug snarled by instinct at every female who 



284 ESSAYS. 

had lost her virginity. This was no sooner generally 
believed, than he was condemned to death ; by whom I 
could never learn, but he was assassinated in the nig;ht, 
barbarously stabbed and mangled in a thousand places, 
and left hanging dead on one of my gate posts where 
I found him the next morning. 

The censor observing, that the itch of scribbling 
begins to spread exceedingly, and being carefully ten- 
der of the reputation of his country, in point of wit 
and good sense, has determined to take all manner of 
writing in verse or prose, that pretended to either, un- 
der his immediate cognizance; and accordingly) here- 
by prohibits the publishing any such for the future, till 
they have first passed his examination, and received 
his imprimatur : for which he demands as a fee only 
six pence per sheet. 

N. B. He nevertheless permits to be published, all 
satirical remarks on the Busy- Body, the above prohibi- 
tion notwithstanding, and without examination, or re- 
quiring the said fees ; which indulgence the small 
witsfin and about this city, are advised gratefully to 
accept and acknowledge. 

The gentleman who calls himself Sirronio, is direct- 
ed, on receipt of this, to burn his great book of cru- 
dities. 

p. S. In compassion to that young man, on account 
of the great pains he has taken, in consideration of the 
character I have just received of him, that he is really 
good-natured, and on condition he shows it to no for- 
eigner, or stranger of sense, I have thought fit to re-- 
prieve his said great booli of Crudities from the flames, 
till further order. 



Noli me tangero. 

I had resolved when I first commenced this design, 
«n no account to enter into a public dispute with as^y 



ESSAYS. 285 

man ; for I judged it would be equally unpleasant to 
me and my readers, to see this paper filled with con- 
tentious wrangling, answers, replies,- Sec. which is a 
way of writing that is endless, and at the same time 
seldom contains any thing that is either edifying or 
entertaining. Yet when such a considerable man as 

Mr. finds himself concerned so warmly to accuse 

and condemn me, as he has done in Keimer*s last In- 
structor, I cannot forbear endeavouring to say some- 
thing in my own defence, from one of the worst of 
characters that could be given me by a man of worth. 
But as I have many things of more consequence to of- 
fer the public, I declare that I will never after this 
time, take notice of any accusations, not better sup- 
ported with truth and reason ; much less may every 
little scribbler, that shall attack me, expect an answer 
from the Busy-Body. 

The sum of the charge delivered against me, either 
directly or indirectly, in the said paper, is this : not 
to mention the first weighty sentence concerning vani» 
tyand ill-nature, and the shrewd intimation, that I am 
without charity and therefore can have no pretence 
to religion, I am represented as guilty of defamation 
and scandal, the odiousness of which is apparent to 
every good man, and the practice of it opposite to 
Christianity, morality and common justice, and in 
some cases, so far below all these, as to be inhuman ; 
a blaster of reputations; as attempting, by a pretence, 
to screen myself from the imputation of malice and 
prejudice ; as using a weapon, which the wiser and 
better part of mankind hold in abhorrence « and as 
giving treatment which the wiser and better part of 
mankind dislike on the same principles, and for the 
same reason, as they do assassination, &c. and all this 
is inferred and concluded from a character I have 
wrote in my Number HI. 

In order to examine the truth and justice of this 
heavy charge, let us recur to that character. And here 
we may be surprised to find what a trifle has raised this 



286 ESSAYS. 

mighty clamour and complaint, this grievous accu- 
sation ! — The worst thing said of the person, in what 
is called my gross description (be he who he will to 
whom my accuser has applied the character of Cre- 
tico) is, that he is a sour philosopher, crafty, but not 
wise. Few human characters can be drawn that will 
not fit some body, in so large a country as this ; but 
one would think, supposing I meant Cretico a real per- 
son, I had sufficiently manifested my impartiality, when 
I said, in that very paragragh, that Cretico is not without 
virtue ; that there are many good things in him, and 
many good actions reported of him ; which must be 
allowed in all reason, very much to overbalance in his 
favour those worst words, sour tempered, and cunning. 
Nay, my very enemy and accuser must have been sen- 
sible of this, when he freely acknowledges, that he has 
been seriously considering, and cannot yet determine, 
which he would choose to be, the Cato or Cretico of 
that paper 5 since my Cato is one of the best of char- 
acters. Thus much in my own vindication. As to 
the only reasons there given, why I ought not to con- 
tinue drawing characters, viz. Why should any man's 
picture be published which he never sat for ; or his 
good name taken from him any more than his money 
or possessions, at the arbitrary will of another, &;c. I 
have but this to answer : the money or possessions, I 
presume, are nothing to the purpose ; since no man 
can claim a right either to those or a good name, if he 
has acted so as to forfeit them. And are not the public 
the only jutiges what share of reputation they think 
proper to allow any man ? Supposing I was capable, 
and had an inclination, to draw all the good and bad 
characters in America, why should a good man be of- 
fended with me for drawing good characters ? And if 
I draw ill ones, can they fit any one but those that 
deserve them ? And ought any but such to be con- 
cerned that they have their deserts ? I have as great 
an aversion and abhorrence for defamation and scandal 
as any man, and would, with the utmost care, avoid 



ESSAYS. 287 

being guilty of such base things ; besides I am very sen- 
sible and certain, that if I should make use of this paper 
to defame any person, my reputation would be sooner 
hurt by it than his ; and the Busy-Body would quickly 
Become detestable ; because, in such a ease, as is justly 
t)bserved, the pleasure arising from a tale of wit and 
novelty soon dies away in generous and honest mindsi 
and is followed with a secret grief, to see their neigh- 
bours calumniated. But if 1 myself was actually the 
worst man in the province, and any one should draw 
my real character, would it not be ridiculous in me to 
say, he had defamed and scandalized me unless he had 
added in a matter of truth ? If any thing is meant by 
asking, why any man's picture should be published 
which he never sat for ? it must be, that we should give 
no character without the owner's consent. If I discern 
the wolf disguised in harmless wool, and contriving the 
destruction of my neighbour's sheep, must I have his 
permission, before lam allowed to discover and prevent 
him ? If 1 know a man to be a designing knave, 
must I ask his consent to bid my friends beware of 
him ? If so, then, by the same rule, supposing the 
Busy-Body had really merited all his enemy had charg- 
ed him with, his consent likewise ought to have been 
obtained before so terrible an accusation was published 
against him. 

1 shall conclude with observing, that in the last para- 
graph save one of the piece now examined, much ill- 
nature and some good sense are co-inhabitants (as he 
expresses it ) The ill nature appears in his endeavour- 
ing to discover satire where I intended no such thing, 
but quite the reverse ; the good sense is this, that 
drawing too good a character of any one is a refined 
manner of satire, that may be as injurious to him as 
the contrary, by bringing on an examination that un- 
dresses the person, and in the haste of doing it, he 
may happen to be stript of what he really owns and 
deserves. As I am Censor, I might punish the first, 
but I forgive it. Yet I will not leave the latter unre- 



288 ESSAYS. 

warded; but assure my adversary, ^^^^ i" consideration 
of the merit of those four lines, I «m resolved to 
forbear injuring him on any occount in that refine, 
manner. 

I thank my neighbour P W — • 1 for his 

kind letter. 

The lions complained of shall be muzzled. 



THE busy-body— No. VI. 

From Tuesday y March 20, to Tuesday j March 27, 
1729. 

Quid non mortalia pectora cogis, 
Auri sacra fames? virgil, 

ONE of the greatest pleasures an author can have, 
is, certainly, the hearing his works applauded. The 
hiding from the world our names, while we publish 
our thoughts, is so absolutely necessary to this self- 
gratification, that I hope my well-wisiiers will con- 
gratulate me on my escape from the many diligent, but 
fruitless enquiries, that have of late been made after 
me. Every man will own, that an author, as such, 
ought to be hid by the merit of his productions only ; 
but pride, party, and prejudice, at this timej runs so 
very high, that experience shows we form our notions 
of a piece by the character of the author. Nay, there 
are some very humble politicians in and about this city, 
who will ask, on which side the writer is, before they 
presume to give their opinion of the thing wrote. This 
ungenerous way of proceeding I was well aware of 
before I published my first speculation ; and there- 
fore concealed my name. And I appeal to the more 



ESSAYS. 289 

generous part of the world, if I have, since I appeared 
in the character of the Busy-Body, given an instance 
of my siding with any party more than another, in the 
unhappy divisions of my country ; and I have above 
all, this satisfaction in myself, that neither affection, 
aversion, or interest, have biassed me to use any par- 
tiality towards any man, or set of men ; but whatso- 
ever I find nonsensical, ridiculous, or immorally dis- 
honest, I have, and still continue openly to attack, 
with the freedom of an honest man, and a lover of my 
country. 

I profess I can hardly contain myself, or prescrvQ 
the gravity and dignity that should attend the censorial 
office, when 1 hear the odd and unaccountable exposi- 
tions, that are put upon some of my works, through 
the malicious ignorance of some, and the vain pride of 
more than ordinary penetration in others ; one instance 
of which many of my readers are acquainted with. A 
certain gentleman has taken a great deal of pains to 
write a key to the letter in my Number IV, wherein 
he has ingeniously converted a genile satire upon te- 
dious and impertinent visitants, into a libel on some of 
the government. This I mention only as a specimen 
of the taste of the gentleman ; I am forsooth, bound to 
please in my speculaiioRs, not that I suppose my im- 
partiality will ever be called in question on that account. 
Injustices of this nature I could complain of in many 
instances ; but I am at present diverted by the recep- 
tion of a letter, which,, though it regards me only in niy 
private capacity, as an adept, yet I venture to publish 
it for the entertainment of my readers ; 

*' To Censor Morum, Esq. Busy-Body General of the 
jProvince of Pennsylvaiiia^ and the Counties of jYciV" 
caattey Kent^ and Sussex iifion Delaware, 

" Honourable Sir, 

" I JUDGE by your lucubrations, that you are not; 
only a lover of truth and equity, but a man of parts and 
B b 



290 E&SAY^c 

learning, aftd a master of science ; as such I honoas* 
you. Know then, most profound sir, that I have, from 
my youth up, been a very indefatigable student in and 
admirer of, that divine science, astrology. I have read 
over Scott, Albertus Magnus, and Cornelius Agrippa, 
above three hundred times ; and was in hopes, by my 
knowledge and industry, to gain enough to have re* 
compensed me for my money expended, and time lost 
in the pursuit of this learning. You cannot be ignorant 
sir, (for your intimate second-sighted correspondent 
knows all things) that there are large sums of mioney 
hidden under ground in divers places about this town, 
and in many parts of the country : but alas, sir, not- 
withstanding I have used all the means laid down in 
the immortal authors before mentioned, and when they 
failed the ingenious Mr. P — d — 1, with his mercurial 
wand and magnet, I have still failed in my purpose. 
This, therefore, I send, to propose and desire an ac* 
quaintance with you, and I do no doubt, notwithstand- 
ing my repeated ill fortune, but we may be exceed- 
ingly serviceable to each other in our discoveries ; and 
that if we use our united endeavours, the lime will 
come, when the Busy-Body, his second-sighted cor- 
respondent, and your very humble servant, will be 
three of the richest men in the province : and then, 
sir, what may we not do ? A word to the wise is suf- 
ficient. 

I conclude with all demonstrable respect, 

Yours and Urania's Votary, 

TITAN PELIADS. 

In the evening after I had received this letter, I 
made a visit to my second-sighted friend, and commu- 
nicated to him the proposal. When he had read it, he 
assured me, that to his certain knowledge, there is not 
at this time so much as one ounce of'silver orsgold hid 
under ground in any part of this province ; for that the 
late and present scarcity of money had obliged those, 
who were living, and knew were they had formerly 



ESS'AYS. 291 

hid any, fb take it up, and use it in their own necessary- 
affairs : and as to all the rest, which was buried by pi- 
rates and others in old times, who were never like to 
come for it, he himself had long since dug it all up, and 
applied it to charitable uses ; and this he desired me 
to publish for the general good. For, as he acquainted 
me, there are among us great numbers of honest artifi- 
cers and labouring people, who, fed with a vain hope of 
growing suddenly rich, neglect their business, almost 
to the ruining of themselves and families, and volunta- 
rily endure abundance of fatigue in a fruitless search 
after imaginary hidden treasure. They wander through 
the woods and bushes by day, to discover the marks 
and signs ; at midnight they repair to the hopeful 
spots with spades and pickaxes ; full of expectation 
they labour violently, trembling at the same time in 
every joint, through fear of certain malicious demons, 
who are said to haunt and guard such places. At 
length a mighty hole is dug, and perhaps several cart- 
loads, of earth thrown out ; but alas, no keg or iron pot 
is found ! no seaman's chest crimed with Spanish pis- 
toles, or weighty pieces of eight I Then they conclude, 
that through some mistake in the procedure, some rash 
word spoke, or some rule of art neglected, the guardian 
spirit had power to sink it deeper into the earth, anci 
convey it out of their reach. Yet, when a man is once 
thus infatuated, he is so far from being discouraged by 
ill success, that he is rather animated to double his in- 
dustry, and will try again and again in a hundred dif- 
ferent places, in hopes at last of meeting with some 
lucky hit, that shall at once sufficiently reward him for 
all his expence of time and labour. 

This odd humour of digging for money through a 
belief, that much has been hid by pirates formerly fre- 
quenting the river, has for sevei'al years t)een mighty 
prevalent among us ; insomuch that you can hardly 
^alk half a mile out of the town on any side, without 
observing several pits dug with that design, and per- 
haps some lately opened. Men, otherwise of very 
good sense, have been drawn into this practice, through 



292 ESSAYS. 

an overweening desire of sudden wealth, and an ea&y 
cveduiity of what they so earnestly wished might be 
true. While the rational and almost certain methods 
of acquiring riches by industry and frugality are ne- 
glected or forgotten. There seems to be some peculiar 
charm in the conceit of finding money : and if the 
sands of Schuylkill were so much mixed with small 
grains of gold, that a man might in a day's time with 
care and application, get together to the value of half a 
crown, I make no question but we should find several 
people employed there, that can with ease earn five 
shillings a day at their proper trades. 

Many are the idle stories told of the private success 
of some people, by which others are encouraged to 
proceed ; and the astrologers, with whom the country 
swarms at this time, are either in the belief of these 
things themselves, or find their advantage in persuad- 
ing others to believe them ; for they are often consult- 
ed about the critical times for digging, the methods of 
laying the spirit, and the like v/himsies, which renders 
them very necessary to, and very much caressed by, 
the poor deluded money-hunters. 

There is certainly something very bewitching in 
the pursuit after mines of gold and silver and other 
valuable metals and many have been ruined by it. A sea- 
captain of my acquaintance used to blame ttie English 
for envying Spain their mines of silver, and too much 
despising or overlooking the advantages of their own 
industry and manufactures. For my part, says he, I 
esteem the banks of Newfoundland to be a more valu- 
able possession than the mountains of Postosi ; and 
when I have been there on the fishing account, have 
looked at every cod pulled up into the vessel as a cer- 
tain quantity of silver ore, which required only carry- 
ing to the next Spanish port to be coined into pieces 
of eight ; not to mention the national profit of fitting 
out and employing such a number of ships and sea- 
men. Let honest Peter Buckram; who has long with 
out success, been a searcher after hidden money, re- 
flect on this, and be reclaimed from that unaccountable 



ESSAYS. 293 

folly. Let him consider, that every stitch he takes 
when he is on the shop board is picking up part of a 
grain of gold, that will in a few days time amount to 
a pistole ; and let Faber think the same of every 
nail he drives, or every stroke, with his plane. Such 
thoughts may make them industrious and of conse- 
quence in time they may be wealthy. But how ab- 
surd it is to neglect a certain profit for such a ridicu- 
lous whimsey ; to spend whole days at the George, in 
company with an idle pretender to astrology, contriving 
schemes to discover what was never hidden, and forget- 
ful how carelessly business is managed at home in their 
absence : to leave their wives in a warm bed at mid- 
night (no matter if it rain, hail, snow, or blow a hur- 
ricane, provided that be the critical hour) and fatigue 
themselves with the violent exercise of digging for 
what they shall never find, and perhaps getting a cold 
that may cost their lives, or at least disordering them- 
selves so as to be fit for no business beside for some 
days after. Surely this is nothing less than the most 
egregious folly and madness. 

I shall conclude with the words of my discreet 
friend, Agricola, of Chester County, when he gave his 
6on a good plantation : — " My son,'* says he, " I give 
thee now a valuable parcel of land ; I assure thee I 
have found a considerable quantity of gold by digging 
there : thee mayest do the same : but thee must care- 
fully observe this, Never to dig more than plough- 
deep." 



Bb2 



^94 EXAMINATION OF 

THE EXAMINATION OF DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
BEFORE AN AUGUST ASSEMBLY, RELATING TO THE 
REPEAL OF THE STAMP-ACT, &c. 

Q. What is your name, and place of abode ? 

A. Franklin of Philadelphia. 

Q. Do the Americans pay any considerable taxes 
among themselves ? 

A. Certainly many, and very heavy taxes. 

Q. What are the present taxes in Pennsylvania, laid 
by the laws of the colony ? 

A. There are taxes on all estates real and persona], 
-a poll tax, a tax on all offices, professions, trades and 
businesses, according to their profits ; an excise on 
all wine, rum, and other spirits ; and a duty of ten 
pounds per head on all Negroes imported, with some 
otlier duties. 

Q. For what purposes are those taxes laid ? 

A. For the support of the civil and military estab- 
lishments of the country, and to discharge the heavy 
debt contracted in the last war. 

Q. How long are those taxes to continue? 

A. Those for discharging the debt are to continue 
till 1772, and longer, if the debt should not then be all 
discharged. The others must always continue. 

Q. Was it not expected that the debt would have 
been sooner discharged ? 

A. It was when the peace was made with France and 
Spain — But a fresh war breaking out with the Indians, 
a fresh load of debt was incurred, and the taxes, of 
course, continued longer by a new law. 

Q. Are not all the people very able to pay those 
taxes ? 

A. No. The frontier counties, all along the con- 
tinent, having been frequently ravaged by the enemy, 
^^d greatly impoverished, are able to pay very little 
lax. And therefore, in consideration of their distresses, 
our late tax laws do expressly favour those counties, 
excusing the sufferers ; and I suppose the same is done 
in other governments. 



DR. FRANKLXK. 29S 

Q. Are not you concerned in the management of the 
Post-Office in America ? 

A. Yes. I am deputy post-master general of North 
America. 

Q. Don't you think the distribution of stamps, by 
post, to all the inhabitants very practicable, if there 
was no opposition ? 

A. The posts only go along the sea coasts ; they do 
not, except in a few instances, go back into the coun- 
try ; and if they did, sending for stamps by post would 
occasion an expence of postage, amounting in many 
cases to much more than that of the stamps them- 
selves. 

Q. Are you acquainted with Newfoundland ? 

A. I never was there. 

Q. Do you know whether there are any post roads 
on that island ? 

A. I have heard that there are no roads at all ; but 
that the communication between one settlement and 
another is by sea only. 

Q. Can you disperse the stamps by post in Canada ? 

A. There is only a post between Montreal and 
Quebec. The inhabitants live so scattered and remote 
from each other in that vast country, that posts can* 
not be supported among them, and therefore they can- 
not get stamps per post. The English Colonies too, 
along the frontiers, are very thinly settled. 

Q. From the thinness of the back settlements, would 
not the stamp-act be extremely inconvenient to the in* 
habitants, if executed ? 

A. To be sure it would ; as many of the inhabitants 
could not get stamps when they had occasion for them, 
without taking long journies, and spending perhaps 
three or four pounds, that the crown might get six* 
pence. 

Q. Are not thfc colonies, from their circumstances^ 
very able to pay the stamp-duty ? 

A. In my opinion, there is not gold and silver enough 
in the colonies to pay the stamp-duty for one year. 



296 EXAMINATION OF 

Q. Don't you know that the money arising from the 
stamps was all to be laid out in America ? 

A. I know it is appropriated by the act to the Ame- 
rican service ; but it will be spent in the conquered 
colonies, where the soldiers are, not in the colonies 
that pay it. 

Q. Is there not a balance of trade due from the co- 
lonies where the troops are posted, that will bring 
back the money to the old colonies ? 

A. I think not. I believe very little would come 
back. I know of no trade likely to bring it back. I 
think it would come from the colonies where it was 
sent directly to England ; for I have always observed, 
that in every colony the more plenty the means, of re- 
mittance to England, the more goods are sent for, and 
the more trade with England carried on. 

Q. What number of white inhabitants do you think 
there are in Pennsylvania ? 
- A. I suppose there may be about 160,000. 

Q. What number of them are Quakers I 

A. Perhaps a third. 

Q What number of Germans ? 

A. Perhaps another third ; but I cannot speak with 
certainty ? 

Q. Have any numbers of the Germans seen service 
as soldiers in Europe ? 

A. Yesj — many of them, both in Europe and Ame- 
rica. 

Q. Are they as much dissatisfied with the stamp du- 
ty as the English ? 

A. Yes, and more ; and with reason, as their stamps 
are in many cases, to be double. 

Q. How many white men do you suppose there are 
in North America .' 

A. About 300,000, from sixteen to sixty years of 
age. 

Q. What may be the amount of one year's imports 
into Pennsylvania from Britain ? 

A. I have been informed that our merchants com- 
pute the imports from Britain te be above 500,000^. 



DR. mANKLlN. 297 

Q. What may be the amount of the produce of your 
province exported to Britain ? 

A. It must be small, as we produce little that is 
wanted in Britain. I suppose it cannot exceed 40,000/. 

Q. How then do you pay the balance ? 

A. The balance is paid by our produce carried to 
the West-Indies, and sold in our own islands, or to the 
French, Spaniards, Danes and Dutch; by the same 
carried to other colonies in North-America, as to New- 
England, Nova-Scotia, Newfoundland, Carolina and 
Georgia ; by the same carried to different parts of Eu- 
rope, as Spain, Portugal and Italy. In all which places 
we receive either money, bills of exchange, or commo- 
dities that suit for remittance to Britain ; which, to- 
gether with all the profits on the industry of our mer- 
chants and mariners, arising in those circuitous voya- 
ges, and the freights made by their ships, centre final- 
ly ill Britain, to discharge the balance, and pay for 
British manufactures continually used in the province, 
or sold to foreigners by our traders. 

Q. Have you heard of any difficulties lately laid on 
the Spanish trade ? 

A. Yes, I have heard that it has been greatly ob- 
structed by some new regulations, and by the English 
men of war and cutlers stationed all along the coast in 
America. 

Q. Do you think it right that America should be 
protected by this country, and pay no part of the ex- 
pence ? 

A. That is not the case. The Colonies raised, cloth- 
ed and paid, during the last war, near 5,000 men, &nd 
spent many millions. 

Q. Were you not reimbursed by parliament ? 

A. W^c were only reimbursed what, in your opinion, 
we had advanced beyond our proportion, or beyond 
what might reasonably be expected from us ; and it 
was a very small part of what we spent. Pen ^.sylva- 
nia, in particular, disbursed about 500,000/ and the re- 
imbursements, in the whole, did not exceed 60,000/. 

Q. You have said that you pay heavy taxes in Penn- 
sylvania J what do they amount to in the pound ? 



298 EXAMINATION OF 

A. The tax on all estates, real and personul, is eigh* 
teen pence in tlie pound, fully rated ; and the tax on the 
profits of trades and professions, with other taxes, do, 
I suppose, make full half a crown in the pound. 

Q. Do you know any thing of the rate of exchange in 
Pennsylvania, and whether it has fallen lately ? 

A. It is commonly from 170 to 175. I have heard 
that it has fallen lately from 175 to 162 and a half, ow- 
ing, I suppose, to their lessening their orders for goods; 
and when their debts to this country are paid, I think 
the exchange will probably be at par. 

Q. Do not you think the people of America would 
submit to pay the stamp duty, if it was moderated ? 

A. No, never, unless compelled by force of arms. 

Q. Are not the taxes in Pennsylvania laid on un-* 
equally, in order to burthen the English trade, particu- 
larly the tax ©n professions and business ? 

A. It is not more burthensome in proportion than 
the tax on lands. It is intended, and supposed to take 
an equal proportion of profits. 

Q. How is the assembly composed ? Of what kinds 
of people are the members, landholders or traders ? 

A. It is composed of landholders, merchants and ar- 
tificers. 

Q. Are not the majority landholders ? 

A. I believe they are. 

Q. Do not they, as much as possible, shift the tax 
off from the land, to ease that, and lay the burthen 
heavier on trade ? 

A. I have never understood it so. I never heard 
such a thing suggested, And indeed an attempt of 
that kind could answer no purpose. The merchant or 
trader is always skilled in figures, and ready with his 
pen and ink. If unequal burthens are laid on his 
trade, he puts an additional price on his goods ; and the 
consumers, who are chiefly landholders, finally pay the 
greatest part, if not the whole. 

Q. What was the temper of America towards G. 
Britain before the year 1763 I 



Sa. FRANKUN. S&Q 

A. The best in the world. They submitted wil- 
lingly to the government of the crown, and paid, in 
all their courts, obedience to acts of parliament. Nu- 
merous as the people are in the several old provinces^ 
they cost you nothing in forts, citadels, garrisons or 
armies, to keep them in subjection. They were go- 
verned by this country at the expence only of a little 
p«n, ink and paper. They were led by a thread They 
had not only a respect, but an affection, for Great- 
Britain, for its laws, its customs and manners, and 
even a fondness for its fashions, that greatly increased 
the commerce. Natives of Britain were always treated 
with particular regard ; to be an Old England-man, was, 
of itself, a character of some respect, and gave a kind of 
rank among us. 

Q. And what is their temper now ? 

A. O, very much altered. 

Q. Did you ever hear the authority of parliament to 
make laws for America questioned till lately ? 

A. The authority of parliament was allowed to be 
valid in all laws, except such as should lay internal 
taxes. It was never disputed in laying duties to regu- 
late commerce. 

Q. In what proportion hath population increased in 
America ? 

A. I think the inhabitants of all the provinces to- 
gether, taken at a medium, double in about 25 years. 
But their demand for British manufactures increases 
much faster, as the consumption is not merely in pro- 
jxjrtion to their numbers, but grows with the growing 
abilities of the same numbers to pay for them. In 1723, 
the whole importation from Britain to Pensylvania, 
was but abotit 15,000 pounds sterling; it is now near 
half a million. 

Q. In what light did the people of America use to 
consider the parliament of Great-Britain ? 

A. They considered the parliament as the great 
bulwark and security of their liberties and privileges, 
and always spoke of it with the utmost respect and ve- 
neration. Arbitrary ministers., they thought, might 



500 EXAMlSTATION OP 

possibly, at times attempt to oppress them ; but they 
relied on it, that the parliament, on application, would 
always give redress. They remembered, with grati- 
tude, a strong instance of this, when a bill was brought 
into parliament, with a clause to make royal instruct 
tions laws in the colonies, which t^e house of commons 
would not pass, and it was thrownlptit. 

Q. And have they not still the same respect for par- 
liament. 

A. No ; it is greatly lessened. 

Q. To what causes is that owing ? 

A. To a concurrence of causes ; the restraints late- 
ly laid on their trade, by which the bringing of foreii^n 
gold and silver into the colonies was prevented; the 
prohibition of making paper money among themselves ; 
and then demanding a new and heavy tax by stamps ; 
taking away, at the same time, trials by juries, and re- 
fusing to receive and hear their humble petitions. 

Q. Don't you think they would submit to the stamp 
act, if it was nsodified, the obnoxious parts taken out, 
and the duty reduced to some particulars, of small mo- 
ment ? 

A. No ; they will never submit to it. 

Q. What do you think is the reason that the people 
of America increase faster than in England ? 

A. Because they marry younger, and more gene- 
rally. 

Q. Why so? 

A. Because any young couple that are industrious, 
mny easily obtain land of their own, on which they can 
raise a family. 

Q. Are not the lower rank of people more at their 
Cise in America than in England? 

A. They may be so, if they are sober and diligent, as 
they are better paid for their bbour. 

Q. What is your opinion of a future tax. imposed on 
the same principle with that of the stamp act ; how 
would the Americans receive it ? 

A. Just as they do this. They would not pay it. 



UR. FRANKLiN^ 301 

Q. Have you not heard of the resolutions of this house, 
and of the house of lords, asserting the right of parlia- 
ment relating to America, including a power to tax the 
people there ? 

A. Yes, I have heard of such resolutions. 

Q. What will be the opinion of the Americans on 
those resolutions? 

A. They will think them unconstitutional, and un- 
just. 

Q. Was it an opinion in America before 1763, that 
the parliament had no right to lay taxes and duties 
there? 

A. I never heard any objection to the right of laying 
duties to regulate commerce ; but a right to lay inter- 
nal taxes was never supposed to be in parliament, as we 
are not represented there. 

Q. On what do you found your opinion, that the peo- 
ple in America made any such distinction ^ 

A. I know that whenever the subject has occurred 
in conversation where I have been present, it has ap- 
peared to be the opinion of every one, that we could 
not he taxed in a parliament where we were not repre- 
sented. But the payment of duties laid by act of parlia- 
ment, as regulations of commerce, was never dis- 
puted. 

Q. But can you name any act of assembly, or pub- 
lic act of any of your governments^ that made such dis- 
tinction ? 

A. I do not know that there was any ? I think there 
■was never an occasion to make any such act, till now 
that you have attempted to tax us ; that has occasion- 
ed resolutions of assembly, declaring the distinction, 
in which I think every assembly on the continent, and 
every member in every assembly, have been unani- 
mous. 

Q. What then could occasion conversutions on that 
subject before that time ? 

A. There was in 1754 a proposition made (I think it 
came from hence) that in case of a war, whicU wu» 
then apprehended, the governors of the tolonieii should 

cc : 



302 EXAMINATION OF 

meet, and order the levying of troops, building of 
forts, and taking every other necessary measure for 
the general defence ; and should draw on the treasury 
here for the sums expended, which were afterwards to 
be raised in the colonies by a general tax, to be laid on 
them by act of parliament. This occasioned a good 
deal of conversation on the subject, and the general 
opinion was, that the parliament neither would nor 
could lay any tax on us, till we were duly represented 
in parliament, because it was not just, nor agreeable 
to the nature of an English constitution. 

Q. Don't you know there was a time in New-York, 
when it was under consideration to make an applica- 
tion to parliament to lay taxes on that colony, upon a 
deficiency arising from the assembly's refusing or ne- 
glecting to raise the necessary supplies for the sup- 
port of the civil government ? 

A. I never heard of it. 

Q. There was such an application under considera- 
tion in New-York ; and do you apprehend they could 
suppose the right of parliament to lay a tax in Ameri- 
ca was only local, and confined to the case of a defi- 
ciency in a particular colony, by a refusal of its assem- 
bly to raise the necessary supplies ? 

A. They could not suppose such a case, as that the 
assembly would not raise the necessary supplies to 
support its own government. An assembly that would 
refuse it must want common sense, which cannot be 
supposed. I think there was never any such case at 
New-York, and that it must be a misrepresentation, or 
the fact must be misunderstood. I know there have 
been some attempts, by ministerial instructions from 
hence, to oblige the assemblies to settle permanent sa- 
laries on governors, which they wisely refused to do ; 
but I believe no assembly of New-York, or any other 
colony, ever refused duly to support government by 
proper allowances, from time to time to public officers. 

Q. But in case a governor, acting by instruction, 
should call on an assembly to raise the necessary sup- 
plies, and the assembly should refuse to do it, do you 



DR. FRANKLIN. 303 

not think it would then be for the good of the people 
of the colony, as well as necessary to government, that 
the parliament should tax them ? 

A. I do not think it would be necessary. If an as- 
sembly could possibly be so absurd as to refuse rais- 
ing the supplies requisite for the maintenance of go- 
vernment among them, they could not long remain in 
such a situation, the disorders and confusion occasioned 
by it must soon bring them to reason. 

Q. If it should not, ought not the right to be in 
Great-Britain of applying a remedy ? 

A. A right only to be used in such a case, I should 
have no objection to, supposing it to be used merely 
for the good of the people of the colony. 

Q. But who is to judge of that, Biitain or the 
colony ? 

A Those that feel can best judge. 

Q. You say the colonies have always submitted to 
external taxes, and object to the right of parliament 
only in laying internal taxes ; now can you show that 
there is any kind of difference between the two taxes 
to the colony on which they may be laid ? 

A. I think the difference is very great. An exter- 
nal tax is a duty laid on commodities imported ; that 
duly is added to the first cost, and other charges on 
the commodity, and when it is offered to sale, makes 
a part of the price. If the people do not like it at 
that price, they refuse it ; they are not obliged to pay 
it. But an internal tax is forced from the people with- 
out their consent, if not laid by their own representa- 
tives. The stamp-act says, we shall have no commerce, 
make^no exchange of property with each other, nei- 
ther purchase nor grant, nor recover debts ; we shall 
neither marry nor make our wills, unless we pay such 
and such sums, and thus it is intended to extort our 
money from us, or ruin us by the consequences of re- 
fusing to pay it. 

Q. But supposing the external tax or duty to be 
laid on the necessaries of life imported into your coio^ 



304 JEXAMINATION OF 

ny, will not that be the same thing in its effects as an 
internal tax ? 

A. I do not know a single article imported into the 
northern colonies, but what they can either do without 
or make themselves. 

Q. Don't you think cloth from England absolutely 
necessary to them ? 

A. No, by no means absolutely necessaiy ; with in- 
dustry and good management, they may very well sup- 
ply themselves with all they want. 

Q. Will it not take a long time to establish that 
manufacture among them ? and must they not in the 
mean while suffer greatly ? 

A. I think not. They have made a surprising pro- 
gress already. And I am of opinion, that before their 
old clothes are worn out, they will have new ones of 
their own making. 

Q. Can they possibly find wool enough in North 
America ? 

A. They have taken steps to increase the wool. 
They entered into general combinations to eat no more 
Iamb, and very few lambs were killed last year. This 
course persisted in will soon make a prodigious differ- 
ence in the quantity of wool. And the establishing 
of great manufactories, like those in the clothing towns 
here, is not necessary, as it is where the busines is to 
be carried on for the purposes of trade. The people 
will all spin, and work for themselves, in their own 
houses. 

Q. Can there.be wool and manufacture enough in 
one or two years ? 

A. In three years, I think there may. 

Q. Does not the severity of the winter, in the North- 
ern Colonies, occasion the wool to be of bad quality ? 

A. No ; the wool is very fine and good. 

Q. In the more Southern Colonies, as in Virginia, 
don't you know that the wool is coarse, and only a kind 
of hair ? 

A. I don't know it. I never heard it. Yet I have 
been sometimes in Virginia. I cannot say I ever took 



DR. FRANKLIN. 305 

particular notice of the wool there, but I believe it 
is good, though I cannot speak positively of it ; but 
Virginia, and the colonies south of it, have less occa- 
sion for wool ; their winters are short and not very- 
severe, and they can very well clothe themselves 
with linen and cotton of their own raising for the rest 
of the year. 

Q. Are not the people, in the more northern colo- 
nies obliged to fodder iheir sheep ail winter ? 

A. In some of the most northern colonies they may 
be obliged to do it some part of the winter, 

Q. Considering the resolutions of parliament, as to 
the right, do you think, if the stamp-act is, repealed, 
that the North Americans will be satistied ? 

A. I believe they will. ' 

Q. Wny do you think so ? 

A, I think the resolutions of right will give them 
very little concern, if they are never attempted to be 
carried into practice. The colonies will probably con- 
sider themselves in the same situation, in that respect, 
with Ireland ; they know you claim the same right 
with regard to Ireland, but you never exercise it. And 
they may believe you never will exercise it in the Co- 
lonies, any more than in Ireland, unless on some very 
extraordinary occasion. 

Q. But who are to be the judges of that extraordi- 
nary occasion I Is i: not the parliament ? 

A. Though the parliament may judge of the occasion, 
the people will think it can never exercise such right, 
till representatives from the colonies are admitted into 
parliament, and that whenever the occasion arises, re- 
presentatives will be ordered. 

Q. Did you never hear that Maryland, during the 
last war, had refused to furnish a quota towards the 
common defence ? 

A. Maryland has been much misrepresented in that 
matter. Mai'yiand, to my knowledge, never refused to 
contribute, or grant aids to the crown. The assem- 
blies every year, during the war, voted considerable 
sums, and formed bills to raise them. The bills were, 
Cc2 



306 EXAMINATION OF 

according to the constitution of that province, sent up to 
the council, or upper house, for concurrence, that they 
might be presented to the governor, in order to be enac- 
ted into laws. Unhappy disputes between the two 
houses arising, from the defects of that constitution prin- 
cipally, rendered all the bills but one or two abortive. 
The proprietary's council rejected them. It is true 
Maryland did net contribute its proportion, but it was 
in my opinion, the fault of the government, not of the 
people. 

Q. Was it not talked of in the other provinces as a 
proper measure to apply to parliament to compel them? 

A. I have heard such discourse ; but as it was well 
known, that the people were not to blame, no such ap- 
plication was ever made, nor any step taken towards it. 

Q. Was it not proposed at a public meeting I 

A. Not that I know of. 

Q. Do you remember the abolishing of the paper 
currency in New-England, by act of assembly ? 

A. I do remember its being abolished, in the Mas- 
sachusetts Bay. 

Q. Was not Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson prin- 
cipally concerned in that transaction ? 

A. I have heard so. 

Q. Was it not at that time a very unpopular law ? 

A. I believe it might, though I can say little about it, 
as I lived at a distance from that province. 

Q. Was not the scarcity of gold and silver an argu- 
ment used against abolishing the paper ? 

A. I suppose it was. 

Q. Whdt is the present opinion there of that law? Is 
it as unpopular as it was at first ? 

A. I think it is not. 

Q. Have not instructions from hence been some- 
times sent over to governors, highly oppressive and 
unpolitical ? 

A Yes. 

Q. Have not some governors dispensed with them for 
that reason ? 

A. Yes ; I have heard so* 



DR. FRANKLIN. 307 

Q. Did the Americans ever dispute the controling 
power of parliament to regulate the commerce ? 

A. No. 

Q. Can any thing less than a military force carry the 
stamp-act into execution ? 

A. I do not see how a military force can be applied 
to that purpose. 

Q. Why may it not ? 

A. Suppose a military force sent into America, they 
will find nobody in arms ; what are they then to do ? 
They cannot force a man to take stamps who chooses to 
do without them. They will not find a rebellion : they 
may indeed make one. 

Q. If the act is not repealed, what do you thing will 
be the consequences ? 

A. A total loss of the respect and affection the peo- 
ple of America bear to this country, and of all the com- 
merce that depends on that respect and affection. 

Q. How can the commerce be affected ? 

A. You will find, that if the act is not repealed, 
they will take very little of your manufactures in a short 
time. 

Q. Is it in their power to do without them ? 

A. I think they may very well do without them 1 

Q. Is it their interest not to take them ? 

A. The goods they take from Britain are either 
necessaries, mere conveniences, or superfluities. The 
first, as cloth, &c, with a little industry they can make 
at home ; the second they can do without, till they are 
able to provide them among themselves; and the last, 
which are much the greatest part, they will strike off 
immediately. They are mere articles of fashion, pur- 
chased and consumed, because the fashion in a respect- 
ed country, but will now be detested and rejected.— 
The people have already struck off, by general agree- 
ment, the use of all goods fashionable in mournings, and 
many thousand pounds worth are sent back as unsale- 
able. 

Q. Is it their interest to make cloth at home ? 

A. I think they may at present get it cheaper from 



308 EXAMINATION OF 

Britain, I mean of the same fineness and neatness of 
workmanship : but when one considers other circum- 
stances, the restraints on their trade, and the difficulty of 
making remittances, it is their interest to make every 
thing. 

Q. Suppose an act of internal regulations, connected 
with a tax, how would they receive it ? 

A. I think it would be objected to. 

Q. Then no regulation with a tax would be submit- 
ted to? 

A. Their opinion, is, that when aids to the Crown 
are wanted, they are to be asked of the several assem- 
blies, according to the old established usage, who will 
as they always have done, grant them freely. And 
that their money ought not to be given away without 
their consent, by persons at a distance, unacquainted 
with their circumstances and abilities. The grunting 
aids to the Crown, is the only means they have of re- 
commending themselves to their sovereign, and they 
think it extremely hard and unjust, that a body of men, 
in which they have no representatives, should make a 
merit to itself of giving and granting what is not its 
own, but theirs, and deprive them of a right they esteem 
of the utmost value and importance, as it is the security 
of all their other rights. 

Q. But is not the post-office, which they have long 
received, a tax as well as a regulation ? 

A. No ; the money paid for the postage of a letter 
is not of the nature of a tax i it is merely a quantum 
meruit for a service done ; no person is compellable to 
pay the money, if he does not chuse to receive the ser- 
vice A man may still, as before the act, send his let- 
ler by a servant, a special messenger, or a friend, if he 
thinks it cheaper and safer. 

Q. But do they not consider the regulations of the 
post-office, by the act of last year, as a tax ? 

A. By the regulations of last year the rate of post- 
age was generally abated near thirty per cent, through 
all \merica ; they certainly cannot consider such abate- 
ment as a tax. 



DR. FEANKLIN. 30.9 

Q. If an excise was laid by parliament which they 
might likewise avoid paying, not by consuming the arti* 
cles excised, would they then not object to it ? 

A. They would certainly object to it, as an excise is 
unconnected with any service done, and is merely an aid 
which they think ought to be asked of them, and grant- 
ted by them, if they are to pay it, and can be granted 
for them by no others whatsoever, whom they have not 
impowercd for that purpose. 

Q. You say they do not object to the right of parlia- 
ment in laying duties on goods to be paid on their im- 
portation ; now, is there any kind of difference between 
a duty on the importation of goods, and an excise on 
their consumption ? 

A. Yes ; a very material one : an excise for the rea- 
sons I have just mentioned, they think you can have 
no right to lay within their country. But the sea is 
yours : you maintain, by your fleets, the safety of na- 
vigation in it ; and keep it clear of pirates : you may 
have therefore a natural and equitable right to some 
toll or duty on merchandizes carried through that part 
of your dominions, towards defraying the expence 
you are at in ships to maintain the safety of that car- 
riage. 

Q. Does this reasoning hold in the case of a duty 
laid on the produce of their lands exported ? and would 
they not then object to such a duty ? 

A. If it tended to make the produce so much dear- 
er abroad as to lessen the demand for it, to be sure they 
would object to such a duty ; not to your right to lay- 
ing it, but they would complain of it as a burthen, and 
petition you to lighten it. 

Q. Is not!^the duty paid on the tobacco exporteAa duty 
of that kind ? 

A. That, I think, is only on tobacco carried coast- 
wise from one colony to another, and appropriated as a 
fund for supporting the college at Williamsburgh, in 
Virginia. 

Q. Have not the assemblies in the West-Indies the 
same natural rights with those in North America I 



3iO EXAMINATION OF 

A. Undoubtedly. 

Q. And is there not a tax laid there on their sugars 
exported ? 

A. I am not much acquainted with the West-In- 
dies, but the duty of four and a half per cent, on Su- 
gars exported, was, I believe, granted by their own 
assemblies. 

Q. How much is the poll-tax in your province laid 
on unmarried men ? 

A. It is, I think, fifteen shillings, to be paid by 
every single freeman, upwards of twenty-one years old. 

Q. What is the annual amount of all the taxes in 
Pennsylvania. -^ 

A. I suppose about 20,000 pounds sterling. 

Q. Supposing the stamp act continued, and enforced, 
do you imagine that ill humour will induce the Ame- 
ricans to give as much for worse manufactures, of their 
own, and use them, preferably to better of ours ? 

A. Yes, I think so. People will pay as freely to 
gratify one passion as another, their resentment as 
their pride. 

Q. Would the people at Boston discontinue their 
trade ? 

A. The merchants are a very small number compar- 
ed with the body of the people, and must discontinue 
their trade, if nobody will buy their goods. 

Q. What are the body of the people in the colonies? 

A. They are farmers, husbandmen or planters. 

Q. Would they suffer the produce of their lands to 
rot? 

A. No ; but they would not raise much. They would 
manufacture more, and plough less. 

Q. Would they live without the administration of 
justice in civil matters, and suffer all the inconvenien- 
ces of such a situation for any considerable time, 
rather than take the stamps, supposing the stamps 
were protected by a sufficient force, where every one 
might have them ? 

A. I think the supposition impracticable, that the 
stamps should be so protected as that every one itiight 



DR. FRANKLIN. 311 

have them. The act requires sub-distributors to be 
appointed in every county town, district and village, and 
they would be necessary. But the principal distribu- 
tors, who were to have had a considerable profit on the 
whole, have not thought it worth while to continue in 
the office, and I think it impossible to find sub-distribu- 
tors fit to be trusted, who, for the trifling profit that 
must come to their share, would incur the odium, and 
run the hazard that would attend it ; and if they could 
be found, I think it impracticable to protect the stamps 
in so many distant and remote places. 

Q. But in places where they could be protected, 
would not the people use them rather than remain in 
such a situation, unable to obtain any right, or recover, 
by law, any debt ? 

A. It is hard to say what they would do. I can only 
judge what other people will think, and how they will 
act, by what I feel within myself. I have a great many 
debts due to me in America, and I had rather they 
should remain unrecoverable by any law, than submit 
to the stamp-act. They will be debts of honour. It is 
my opinion the people will either continue in that situ- 
ation, or find some way to extricate themselves, perhaps 
by generally agreeing to proceed in the courts without 
stamps. 

Q. What do you think a sufficient military force to 
protect the distribution of stamps in every part of 
America ? 

A. A very great force ; I can't say what, if the dis- 
position of America is for a general resistance. 

Q. What is the number of men in America able to 
bear arms, or of disciplined militia ? 

A. There are, I suppose, at least 

[Question objected to. He withdrew. Called in again.'\ 

Q. Is the American stamp-act an equal tax on that 
^country ? 

A, I think not. 

Q. Why so ? 

A. The greatest part of the money must arise from 
law suits for the recovery of debts, and be paid by the 



312 BXAMLNATION Op 

lower sort of people, who were too poor easily to pay 
their debts It is therefore a heavy tax on the poor, and 
a tax upon them for being poor. 

Q. But will not this increase of expence be a means 
of lessening the number of law suits ? 

A. I think not ; for as the costs all fall upon the 
debtor, and are to be paid by him, they would be no dis- 
couragement to the creditor to bring his action. 

Q. Would it not have the effect of excessive usury ? 

A. Yes, as an oppression of the debtor. 

Q. How many ships are there laden annually in 
North- America with flax-seed for Ireland ? 

I cannot speak to the number of ships, but I know 
that in 1752, 10,000 hogsheads of flax-seed, each con- 
taining 7 bushels, were exported from Philadelphia to 
Ireland. I suppose the quantity is greatly increased 
since that time ; and it is understood that the exporta- 
tion from New-York is equal to that from Philadel- 
phia. 

Q. What becomes of the flax that grows with that 
flax-seed ? 

A. They manufacture some into coarse, and some in- 
to a middling kind of linen. 

Q. Arc there any slitting mills in America ? 

A. I think there are, but I believe only one at pre- . 
sent employed. I suppose they will all be set to work, 
if the interruption of the trade continues. 

Q. Are there any fulling mills there ? 1 

A. A great many. | 

Q. Did you never hear that a great quantity of ; 
stockings were contracted for the army during the wari 
and manufactured in Philadelphia ? 

A. I have heard so. 

Q. If the stamp-act should be repealed, would not 
the Americans think they could oblige the parliament 
to repeal every external law now in force ? 

A. It is hard to answer questions of what people at 
such a distance will think. 

Q. But what do you imagine they will think were 
the motives of repealing the act ? 



DR. FRANKLIN. 313 

A, I suppose they will think that it was repealed 
from a conviction of its inexpediency ; and they will 
rely upon it, that while the same inexpediency subsists, 
you will never attempt to make such anotiier. 

Q, What do you mean by its inexpediency ? 

A. I mean its inexpediency on several accounts ; the 
power and inability of those who were to pay the tax ; 
the general discontent it has occasioned ; and the im- 
practicability of enforcing it. 

Q. If the act should be repealed, and the legislature 
should shew its resentment to the opposers of the stamp- 
act, would the colonies acquiesce in the authority of 
the leq:islature ? What is your opinion they would 
do ? 

A. I don't doubt at all, that if the legislature repeal 
the stamp-act, the colonies will acquiesce in the autho- 
rity. 

Q. But if the legislature should think fit to ascer- 
tain its right to lay taxes, by an act laying a small tax, 
contrary to their opinion, would they submit to pay the 
tax ? 

A. The proceedings of the people in America have 
been considered too much together. The proceedings 
of the assemblies have been very different from those 
of the mobs, and should be distinguished, as having no 
connection with each other. — The assemblies have on- 
ly peaceably resolved what they take to be their rights ; 
they have taken no measures for opposition by force, 
they have not built a fort, raised a man, or provided a 
grain of ammunition, in order to such opposition.— — - 
The ringleaders of riots they think ought to be punish- 
ed ; they would punish them themselves, if they could. 
Every sober sensible man would wish to see rioters 
punished, as otherwise peaceable people have no secu- 
rity of person or estate. But as to an internal tax, 
how small soever, laid by the legisbture here, on the 
people there, while they have no representatives in 
this legislature, I think it will never be submitted to— • 
They will oppose it to the last. — They do not consider 
it as at all necessary for you to raise money on them by 
Dd 



314 EXAMINATION OF 

your taxes, because they are, and always have been, 
ready to raise money by taxes among themselves, and 
to grant large sums, equal to their abilities, upon re- 
quisition from the Crown — They have not only granted 
equal to their abilities, but, during all the last war, 
they granted far beyond their abilities, and beyond their 
proportion with this country, you yourselves being 
judges, to the amount of many hundred thousand 
pounds, and this they did freely and readily, only on a 
sort of promise from the secretary of state, that it 
should be recommended to parliament to make them 
compensation. It was accordingly recommended to 
parliament, in the most honourable manner, for them. 
America has been greatly misrepresented and abused 
here, in papers, and pamphlets, and speeches, as un- 
grateful and unreasonable, and unjust, in having put 
this nation to immense expence for their defence, and 
refusing to bear any part of that expence. The colo- 
nies raised, paid and clothed, near 25,000 men during 
the last war, a n\imber equal to those sent from Britain, 
and far beyond their proportion ; they went deeply into 
debt in doing this, and all their taxed estates are mort- 
gaged, for many years to come, for discharging that 
debt. Government here was at that, time very sensi- 
ble of this. The colonies were recommended to par- 
liament. Every year the King sent down to the house 
a written message to this purpose. That his Majesty 
being highly sensible of the z^^al and vigour with which 
his faithful subjects in North- America had exerted 
themselves in defence of his Majesty's just rights and 
possessions, recommend it to the house to take the 
same into consideration, and enable him to give them a 
proper compensation. You will find those messages on 
your own journals every year of the war to the very 
last, and you did accordingly give 200,000 pounds an- 
nually to the Crown to be distributed in such com- 
pensation to the colonies. This is the strongest of all 
proofs, that the colonies, far from being unwilling to 
bear a share of the burthen, did exceed their propor- 
tion ; for if they had done less, or had only equalled 



DR. FRANKLIN. 315 

their proportion, there would have been no room or 
reason for compensation. — Indeed the sums reimbursed 
them, were by no means adequate to the expence they 
incurred beyond their proportion ; but they never 
murmured at that : they esteemed their Sovereign's 
approbation of their zeal and fidelity, and the appro- 
bation of this house, far beyond any other kind of 
compensation ; therefore there was no occasion for this 
act, to force money from a willing people ; they had 
not refused giving money for the purposes of the act ; 
no requisition had been made ; they were always wil- 
ling and ready to do what could reasonably be expect- 
ed from them, and in that light they wish to be con- 
sidered. 

Q. But suppose Great-Britain should be engaged in 
a war in Europe, would North America contribute to 
the support of it ? 

A. I do think they would, as far as their circum- 
stances would permit. They consider themselves as a 
part of the British empire, and as having one common 
interest with it ; they may be looked on here as foreign- 
ers, but they do not consider themselves as such. 
They are zealous for the honour and prosperity of this 
nation, and, while they are well used, will always be 
ready to support it, as far as their little power goes.— 
In 1739 they were called upon to assist in the expedi- 
tion against Carthagena, and they sent 3000 men to 
join your army. It is true Carthagena is in America, 
but as remote from the northern colonies, as if it had 
been in Europe. They make no distinction of wars, 
as to their duty of assisting in them. I know the last 
war is commonly spoke of here as entered into for the 
defence, or for the sake of the people of America. I 
think it is quite misunderstood. It^ began about the 
limits between Canada and Nova-Scotia, about terri- 
tories to which the Crown indeed laid claim, but were 
not claimed by any British colony ; none of the lands 
had been granted to any colonist ; we had therefore 
no particular concern or interest in that dispute. As 
to the Ohio, the contest there began about your right 



316 EXAMINATION OF 

of trading in the Indian country, a right you had by 
the treaty of Utrecht, which the French infringed ; 
they seized the traders and their goods, which were 
your manufactures ; they took a fort which a compa- 
ny of your merchants, and their factors and cones- 
pondenis, had erecied there, to secure tliat trade.—. 
Braddock was sent with an army to re-take that fort 
(which was looked on here as another incroachment 
on the king's territory) and to protect your trade. It 
was not till after his defeat that the colonies were at- 
tacked. They were before in perfect peace with both 
French and Indians ; the troops were not therefore 
sent for their defence. The trade with the Indians 
though carried on in America, is not an American in- 
terest. The people of America are chiefly farmers and 
planters ; scarce any thing that they raise or produce 
is an article of commerce with the Indians. The In- 
dian trade is a British interest ; it is carried on with 
British manufactures, for the profit of British merchants 
and manufacturers ; therefore the war, as it com- 
menced for the defence of territories of the Crown, 
the property of no American, and for the defence of a 
trade purely British, was really a British war — and yet 
the people of America made no scruple of contributing 
their utmost towards carrying it on, and bringing it to 
a happy conclusion. 

Q. Do you think then that the taking possession of 
the king's territorial rights, and strengthening the fron- 
tiers, is not an American interest ? 

A. Not particularly but, conjointly a British and an 
American interest. 

Q. You will not deny that the preceding war, the war 
with Spain, was entered into for the sake of America ; 
was it not occasioned by captures made in the Ameri- 
can seas ? 

- A. Yes ; captures of ships carrying on the British 
trade there, with British manufactures. 

Q. Was not the late war with the Indians, since the 
peace with France, a war for America only ? 



DR. FRANKLIN. 317 

A. Yes ; it was more particularly for America than 
the former, but it was rather a consequence or remains 
of the former war, the Indians not iiaviny; been tho- 
roughly pacified, and the Americans bore by much the 
greatest share of the expence. It was put an end to 
by the army under General Bouquet : there were not 
above 300 regulars in that army, and above 1000 
Pennsylvanians. 

Q. Is it not necessary to send troops to America, to 
defend the Americans against the Indians ? 

A. No, by no means ; it never was necessary. They 
defended themselves when they were but an handful, 
and the Indians much more numerous. They contin- 
ually gained ground, and have driven the Indians over 
the mountains, without any troops sent to their as- 
sistance from this country. And can it be thought ne- 
cessary now to send troops for their defence from those 
diminished Indian tribes, when the colonies are be- 
come so populous, and so strong ? There is not the 
least occasion for it; they are very able to defend them- 
selves. 

Q. Do you say there were no more than SOO regular 
troops employed in the late Indian war ? 

A. Not on the Ohio, or the frontiers of Pennsylvania, 
which was the chief part of the war that affected the 
colonies. There were garrisons at Niagara, Fort De- 
troit, and those remote posts kept for the sake of your 
trade ; I did not reckon them, but I believe that on tiie 
whole the number of Americans, or provincial troops, 
employed in the war, was greater than that of the regu- 
lars. I am not certain, but I think so. 

Q. Do you think the assemblies have a right to 
levy money on the subject there, to grant to the 
Crown ? 

A. I certainly think so ; they have always done it. 

Q Are they .acquainted with the declaration of 
rights ? and do they know that by that statute, money 
is not to be raised on the subject but by consent of par- 
liament ? 

A. They are very well acquainted with it. 
D d2 



S18 EXAMINATION OF 

Q, How then can they think they have a right to 
levy money for the Crown, or for any other than local 
purposes ? 

A. They understand that clause to relate to subjects 
only within the realm : that no money can be levied 
on them for the Crown, but by consent of parliament. 
The colonies are not supposed to be within the realm : 
they have assemblies of their own ; which are their 
parliaments, and they are in that respect in the same 
situation with Ireland. When money is to be raised 
for the Crown upon the subject in Ireland, or in the 
colonies, the consent is given in the parliament of Ire- 
land, or in the assemblies of the colonies. They think 
the parliament of Great-Britain cannot properly give 
that consent till it hus representatives from America ; 
for the petition of right expressly says, it is to be by 
common consent in parliament, and the people of Ame- 
rica have no representatives in parliament, to make a 
part of that common consent. 

Q. If the stamp-act should be repealed, and an act 
should pass, ordering the assemblies of the colonies 
to indemnify the sufferers by the riots, would they 
obey it ? 

A. That is a question I cannot answer. 

Q. Suppose the king should require the colonies to 
grant a revenue, and the parliament should be against 
their doing it, do they think they can grant a revenue 
to the king, without the consent of the parliament of 
Great-Britain I 

A. That is a deep question — As to my own opinion, 
I should think myself at liberty to do it, and should do 
it, if I liked the occasion. 

Q. When money has been raised in the colonies upon 
requisitions, has it not been granted to the king ? 

A. Yes, always ; but the requisitions have generally 
been for some service expressed, as to raise, clothe and 
pay troops, and not for money only. 

Q. If the act should pjss, requiring the American 
assemblies to make compensation to the sufferers, and 
they should disobey it, and then the parliament should 



DR. FRANKLIX. 319 

by another act, lay an internal tax, would they then: 
obey it ? 

A. The people will pay no internal tax ; and I think 
an act to oblige the assemblies to make compensation 
is unnecessary, for I am of opinion, that as soon as the 
present heats are abated, they will take the matter into 
consideration, and, if it is right to be done, tb-^y will 
do it of tliemselves. 

Q. Do not letters often come into the post-offices in 
America, directed to some inland town where no post 
goes?. 

A. Yes. 

Q. Can any private persons take up those letters, 
and carry hem as directed ? 

A. Yes; any friend of the person may do it, paying 
the postage that has occurred. 

Q. But must he not pay an, additional postage for the 
distance to such inland town ? 

A. No. 

Q. Can the post-master answer delivering the letter 
without being paid such additional postage ? 

A. Certainly he can demand nothing, where he does 
no service. 

Q. Suppose a person being far from home, finds a 
letter in a post- office directed to him, and, he lives in a 
place to which the post generally goes, and the letter is 
directed to that place, will the post-master deliver him 
the letter without his paying the postage receivable 
at the place to which the letter is directed ? 

A. Yes ; the office cannot demand postage for a 
letter that it does not carry, or farther than it does car- 
ry it. 

Q. Are not ferrymen in America obliged by act of 
parliament, to carry over the post without pay I 

A. Yes. 

Q. Is not this a tax on the ferrymen ? 

A. They do not consider it as such, as they have an 
advantage from persons travelling with the post. 

Q. If the stamp-act should be repealed, and the 



320 tXAMINATION OF 

crown should make a requisition to the colonies for a 
sum of money, would they grant it ? 

A. I believe they would. 

Q. Why do you think so I 

A. I can speak for the colony I live in ; I had it in 
instruction from the assembly to assure the ministry, 
that as they always had done, so they should always 
think it their duty to grant such aids to the crown as 
were suitable to their circumstances and abilities, 
whenever called upon for the purpose, in the usual 
constitutional manner ; and I had the honour of com- 
municating this instruction to that honourable gentle- 
man then minister. 

Q. Would they do this for a British concern ; as 
suppose a war in some part of Europe, that did not 
affect them ? 

A. Yes, for any thing that concerned the general 
interest. They consider themselves as a part of the 
whole. 

Q. What is the usual constitutional manner of cal- 
ling on the colonies for aids ? 

A. A letter from the secretary of state. 

Q. Is this all you mean, a letter from tlie secretary 
of state ? 

A. I mean the usual way of requisition, in a circu- 
lar from the secretary of state, by his Majesty's com- 
mand, reciting the occasion, and recommending it to 
the colonies to grant such aids as became their loyalty, 
and were suitable to their abilities. 

Q. Did the secretary of state ever write for money 
for the Crown ? 

A. The requisitions have been to raise, clothe and 
pay men, which cannot be done without money. 

Q. Would they grant money alone, if called on ? 

A. In my opinion they would, money, as well as men, 
when they have money or can make it. 

Q. If the parliament should repeal the stamp-act, 
will the assembly of Pennsylvania rescind their reso- 
lutions ? 

A. I think not. 



i 



--^.^^ ed 



DR. rRANKLIN. 321 

Q. Before there was any thought of the stamp-act, 
did they wish for a representation in parliament t 

A. No. 

Q. Don't you know that there is, in the Pennsylva- 
nia charter, an express reservation of the right of par- 
liament to lay taxes there ? 

A. I know there is a clause in the charter, by which 
the king grants that he will levy no taxes on the inha- 
bitants, unless it be with the consent of the assembly, 
or by act of parliament. 

Q. How then could the assembly of Pennsylvania as- 
sert, that laying a tax on them by the stamp-act was 
an infringement of their rights ? 

A. They understand it thus ; by the same charter, 
and otherwise, they are entitled to all the privileges 
and liberties of Englishmen : they find in the great 
charters, and the petition and declaration of rights, 
that one of the privileges of English subjects is, that 
they are not to be taxed but by their common consent j 
they have therefore relied upon it, from the first set- 
tlement of the province, that the parliament never 
would, nor could by colour of that clause in the char- 
ter, assume a right of taxing them, till it had qualified 
itself to exercise such right, by admitting representa- 
tives from the people to be taxed, who ought to make 
a part of that common consent. 

Q. Are there any words in the charter that justify 
that construction ? 

A. The common rights of Englishmen, as declar- 
ed by Magna Charta, and the petition of right, all jus* 
" y it. *' 

Q. Does the distinction between internal and exter- 
nal taxes exist in the words of the charter ? 

A. No, I believe not. 

Q. Then may they not, by the same interpreta- 
tion, object to the parliament's right of external taxa- 
tion ? 

A. They never have hitherto. Many arguments 
have been lately used here to show them that there is 
no difference, and that if you have no right to tax thena 



322 EXAMINATION OF 

internally, you have none to tax them externally, or 
make any other law to bind them. At present they do 
not reason so, but in time they may possibly be con- 
vinced by these arguments. 

Q. Do not the resolutions of the Pennsylvania as- 
sembly say all taxes I 

A. If they do, they mean only internal taxes ; the 
same words have not always the same meaning here 
and in the colonies. By taxes they mean internal tax- 
es ; by duties they mean customs ; these are their ideas 
of the language. 

Q. Have you not seen the resolutions of the Massa- 
chusetts Bay assembly ? 

A. I have. 

Q. Do they not say, that neither external nor inter* 
nal taxes can be laid on them by parliament ? 

A. I don*t know that they do ; I believe not. 

Q. If the same colony should say neither tax nor im- 
position could be laid, does not that province hold the 
power of parliament can hold neither I 

A. I suppose that by the word imposition, they do not 
intend to express duties to be laid on goods imported, 
as regulations of commerce. 

Q. What can the colonies mean then by imposition 
as distinct from taxes ? 

A. They may mean many things, as impressing of 
men, or of carriages, quartering troops on private hou- 
ses, and the like ; there may be great impositions, that 
are not properly taxes. 

Q. Is not the post-office rate an internal tax laid by 
»ct of parliament ? 

A. 1 have answered that. 

Q. Are all parts of the colonies equally able to pay 
taxes ? 

A. No, certainly ; the frontier parts, which have been 
ravaged by the enemy, are greatly disabled by that 
means, and therefore, in such cases, are usually favour- 
ed in our tax laws. 

Q. Can we at this distance, be competent judges of 
what favours are necessary ? 



BR. FRANKLIN. 



A.^ The parliament have supposed it, by claiming a 
right to make tax laws for America ; I think it impos- 
sible. 

Q. Would the repeal of the stamp-act be any discour- 
agement of your manufactures ? Will the people that 
have begun to manufacture decline it ? 
^ A. Yes, I think they will ; especially if, at the same 
time, the trade is opened again, so that remittances can 
be easily made. I [have known several instances that 
make it probable. In the war before last, tobacco be- 
ing loAv, and making little remittance, the people of 
Virginia went generally into family manufactures. Af- 
terwards, when tobdcco bore a better price, they re- 
turned to the use of British manufactures. So fulling 
mills were very much diffused in the last war in Penn- 
sylvania, because oiils were then plenty, and remittan- 
ces could easily be made to Britain for English cloth 
and other goods. 

Q. If the stamp-act should be repealed, would it in- 
duce the assemblies of America to acknowied^;e the 
rights of parliament to tax them, and would they trase 
their resolutions ? 
A. No, never. 

Q Is there no means of obliging them to erase those 
resolutions ? 
- A None that I know of; they will never do it unless 
compelled by force of arms. 

Q. Is there a power on earth that can force them to 
erase them ? 

A. No power, how great soever, can force men to 
change their opinions. 

Q. Uo they consider the post-office as a tax, or as 
a regulation ? 

A. Not as a tax, but as a regulation and conveniency ; 
every assembly encouraged it, and supported it in its 
infancy, by grants of money, which they would not 
otherwise have done ; and the people have always paid 
the postage. 

Q. When did you receive the instructions you men- 
tioned ? * ^ 



324 EXAMINATION OF 

A. I brought them with me, when I came to Eng- 
land, about 15 months since. 

Q. When did you communicate that instruction to 
the minister ? 

A. Soon after my arrival, while the stamping of 
America was under consideration, and before the bill 
was brought in. 

Q. Would it be most for the interests of Great-Bri- 
tain, to employ the hands of Virginia in tobacco, or in 
manufactures ? 

A. Tn tobacco to be sure. 

Q. What used to be the pride of the Americans ? 

A. To indulge in the fashions and manufactures of 
Great-Britain. 

Q. What is now their pride ? 

A. To wear their old clothes over again, till they can 
make new ones. 

Withdrew, 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself 9 

Continuation of his Life, by Dr. Stuber, - 91 

Extracts from his Will - - - - - 138 

On Early Marriages - _ - - - 147 

On the Death of His brother, Mr. John Franklin 149 

To the late Dr. Mather of Boston - - 150 

The Whistle, a true Story ; written to his Nephew 153 

A Petition of the Left Hand - - - 155 

The handsome and deformed Leg - - - 156 
Conversation of a Company of Ephemerae, with 

the Soliloquy of one advanced in age - 159 

Morals of Chess - - - - - 161 

The Art of procuring pleasant Dreams - - 165 

Advice to a young Tradesman - - - 171 

Necessary Hints to those who would be rich - 173 
The way to make money plenty in every man's 

pocket - - - - - . 174 

An oeconomical Project - - . - '^76 
On modern Innovations in the English Language 

and in Printing - - - - 181 
An account of the highest Court of Judicature in 

Pennsylvania, viz. The Court of the Press 187 

Paper; a Poem - 191 

On the Art of Swimming - ^ - - 193 

Kew mode of Bathing - - - - ~ 196 

Ee 



CONTENTS. 

Observations on the generally prevailing Doc- 
trines of Life and Death - - - i&8 
Precautions to be taken by those who are about 

to undertake a Sea Voyage - - 202 

^ On Luxury, Idleness, and Industry - - 205 

On the Slave Trade 210 

Observations on War - - - . 214 

On the Impress of Seamen - - - - 216 
On the Criminal Laws, and the practice of Pri- 
vateering - ... - 220 
Kemarks concerning the Savages of North America 227 
To Mr. Dubourgh, concerning the dissentions 

between England and America - - 235 
A comparison of the conduct of the ancient Jews, 
and of the Antifederalists of the United 
States of America - . - - 236 
The Internal State of America ; being -a true 
Description of the Interest and Policy of 
that vast Continent - - . - 241 
Information to those who would remove to America 247 
Final speech of Dr. Franklin in the late Federal 

Convention - - - - - 256 

Sketch of an English School - - - 259 

Busy-Body, No. I. 265 

. No. XL - - «■ - * 268 

^ No. IIL 270 

No. IV. 274 

No. V. 280 

No. VI. 288 

The Examination of Dr. Franklin, before an 
august assembly, relating to the repeal of 
th€r Stamp-Act, «cc» - - - ^ 265 



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William Powell 
Joshua F. Bethel 
James Robinson 
Israel Madax 
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T. M. Hickey 
James Penick 
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Charles Cuniss 
Robert Cochran 
Anthony Belsterling 
Sarah Hamilton 
J. B. Reynolds 
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Frederick Charleton 
William Rea 



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James Harper 
John Roach 
p. S. Lorimor 
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Joseph Patten 
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Ezra Comly 
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Jeremiah Walton 
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328 



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George Yorker 

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George Shade 

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Frederick Nice 

William Edwards 

Mrs. Maigee 

Peter M' Arthur 
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329 



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E e 2 



330 



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SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. 



531 



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332 



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SUBSCRIBERS* NAMES. 



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334 subscribers' names." 


John Weiss 


John Miller 


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Abm. Ogden 


John Miller 


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Stephen H. Elliott 


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O. Morsman — 2 do. 


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NAMES a35 



John G. Lange Robert E Morrell 

James G. White Joseph Ails 

Benjamin Dare Robert Brown 

John Gacey Robert H. White 

Peter Trou George Deal 



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